Never Say Never: The Terrible Twist
by TheWriter51
Summary: Part4 of my story.VFD hangs over the children's heads as they experience the next chapters of misfortune in their lives.Jane escaped from Olaf's clutches but she'll have to face new challenges &shocking news that couldchange everything: T 4 some violence
1. TEE: 667 Dark Avenue

**And I've finally been able to upload this new part of my story! :) This story will consist of books 6 to 8. I'll put summaries for each individual story in this part.**

**The rating for this story has been changed to T because of some violence. It's not too bad (based on my judgement) but i rated it T to be safe so i'll warn everyone before any violent-like things will happen in a certain chapter. Otherwise, most of it is K+ friendly.**

**Here's a summary for just this book (TEE):**

**After the Quagmires were kidnapped by Olaf and his henchmen, the Baudelaires and Jane are far too anxious to enjoy themselves. What's worse for Jane, is the constant fear of Olaf's return. The last words he said,_"Mark my words, I will be back for you and your fortune. Just wait until I get my hands on you, you'll be sorry—very, very sorry." _continue to trouble her but with great guardians like the Squalors, could Olaf really get her in his clutches again? But appearances can often be misleading and Jane will soon discover that in someone she had begun to trust.**

**_Enjoy! R&R please! :)_**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter One: 667 Dark Avenue<strong>_

We stood in front of a large apartment building on probably the darkest street I've ever walked down. It was only morning but it felt like it was midnight as Mr. Poe led us down Dark Avenue to where our new guardians lived. They were apparently good friends of the Baudelaire's parents. I was quite curious as who would ever live on such a dismal looking street. Tall trees rose all around us, blocking out most of the sunlight with their massive leaves.

"I imagine you must be nervous," Mr. Poe said and paused to take out his white handkerchief and cough into it. "You have no reason to be nervous though. I realize some of your previous guardians have caused a little trouble, but I think Mr. and Mrs. Squalor will provide you with a proper home."

I wasn't nervous at all. Maybe I was a little curious as to what our new guardians would be like and I hoped they were better than our previous guardians but I didn't get my hopes up too high. I didn't expect much of a difference after all our last guardians had either been murdered or were passive to our situation.

I was far more anxious about many things. For one, I was anxious about Count Olaf. I was anxious about what his scheme might be this time, knowing he would return just like he promised. Would he succeed this time? Or would we escape yet again at the last minute? I could only be relieved that I wasn't in his clutches again though, it was a shame I missed meeting with Monty Kensicle again. I hoped the Quagmires were at least finding him to be helpful.

I was also anxious about the Quagmires. Maybe they had Monty Kensicle but I was anxious about what Count Olaf was doing to them or was planning on doing to them. He'd been furious that I escaped and I hoped he wouldn't take out his anger at me on the Quagmires.

I would've pointed all this out to Mr. Poe at the moment but I didn't need to because Violet was already speaking what was on my mind.

"We're not nervous," Violet said, "we're too anxious to be nervous."

"'Anxious' and 'nervous' mean the same thing," Mr. Poe said. I was well educated enough that I knew that the words 'anxious' and 'nervous' meant two very different things but I didn't even bother to try to explain that to Mr. Poe. "And what do you have to be anxious about, anyway?"

"Count Olaf, of course," Violet replied. I shuddered as I remembered the last words he said to me before driving away with the Quagmires.

_"Mark my words, I will be back for you and your fortune. Just wait until I get my hands on you, you'll be sorry—very, very sorry."_

I shuddered again. It was another thing I was so anxious about. I was anxious about whether Count Olaf would cook up a scheme that would put me back in his clutches. And I was a little afraid of that because of how angry he had been when first I helped the Baudelaires pass their exams, then I let Mr. Poe find out who I was, and then I escaped. I was afraid to think of what being in his clutches again would mean.

"Count Olaf?" Mr. Poe asked, breaking me from my thoughts, "You don't need to worry about him. He'll never find you here."

"Never say never," I muttered knowing Mr. Poe was completely wrong. If Count Olaf could manage to find us at all our previous guardians he would surely be able to find us here though, it still confused me as to how he always knew where to find us. It was if he had some tracking device on us or something crazy like that. I honestly wouldn't put it past him.

"It's hard not to worry about Olaf," I said, softly, shivering though it wasn't from the cold, "It feels like he's everywhere and…I really don't want to find myself in his clutches again."

"You don't need to be worried about that, either," Mr. Poe said, "I tore up those adoption papers and Mr. and Mrs. Squalor seem like very good guardians. If there is any trouble like that, they will probably be able to stop it and the doorman will make sure no one bad goes in or either of you aren't taken out by anyone who isn't your guardian."

"It's hard not to be anxious about that happening," Klaus said, taking off his glasses and squinting at around in the darkness, "especially when he has our other compatriots in his clutches at the moment."

Though the Quagmires being put into Olaf's clutches were upsetting, I couldn't help smile at Klaus' use of another more sophisticated term for 'friends'. sometimes I liked to think of him as my own personal dictionary since he could define nearly every word in it by heart. Though, he's really more like an encyclopedia because he also knew so much more than the average ten year old since he was an avid reader. I always loved to listen to him read. Not only did I learn from it but just listening to his voice murmuring the words printed on the crisp white pages of those many books sometimes made me get lost in our own world for the moment.

"You don't have to worry about the Quagmires, either," Mr. Poe said, "At least, not for much longer. I don't know if you happened to read the Mulctuary Money Management newsletter, but I have some very good news about your friends."

"Gavu?" Sunny asked in her usual way of speaking, which consisted of small garbled shriek. I've gotten used to her way of speaking by now, though I sometimes still had trouble with some of them. I wasn't really sure what she was asking at the moment luckily Violet quickly translated it for Mr. Poe and I. "My sister means, 'have the Quagmires been found and rescued?'"

"Better than that," Mr. Poe said, though honestly the only thing better than the Quagmires being rescued would probably be Olaf being arrested by the authorities. "I have been promoted. I am now the bank's Vice President in Charge of Orphan Affairs. That means that I am in charge not only of both of your situations, but of the Quagmire situation as well. I promise you that I will concentrate a great deal of my energy on finding the Quagmires and returning them to safety, or my name isn't—" Mr. Poe had to cough into his handkerchief. I kicked a small pebble on the street that I could barely see and waited for him to finish. "Poe. Now, as soon as I drop you off here I am taking a three-week helicopter ride to a mountain peak where the Quagmires may have been spotted. It will be very difficult to reach me during that time, as the helicopter has no phone, but I will call you as soon as I get back with your young pals. Now, can you see the number on this building? It's hard for me to tell if we're at the right place."

"I think it says 677," Klaus said, squinting in the darkness at the building.

"Then we're here," Mr. Poe said. "Mr. and Mrs. Squalor live in the penthouse apartment of 667 Dark Avenue. I think the door is here."

"No, it's over here," a high, raspy voice said from somewhere in the darkness. I jumped, startled and whirled to see who had spoken. The voice seemed to belong to the only other person on the street, a man who wore a hat with a wide brim and a coat that was very big so that the sleeves hung over his hands completely. The brim of his hat covered most of his face. "Most of our visitors find it hard to spot the door," the man said, "That's why they hired a doorman."

"Well, I'm glad they did," Mr. Poe said, "My name is Poe, and I have an appointment with Mr. and Mrs. Squalor to drop off their new children."

"Oh, yes," the doorman said. "They told me you were coming. Come on in."

He opened the door of the building and led us inside a dimly lit room. it was as dark as it was on the street. Only a few candles were scattered around the floor. I couldn't tell where the ceiling ended or the walls. It was like being in a cave.

"My, it's dark in here," Mr. Poe said, "Why don't you ask your employers to put some lamps in here?"

"We can't," the doorman said, "Dark is in right now."

"In what?" I asked.

"Just 'in'," the doorman explained and I could see the hint of a grin on his face as he gazed at me. "Around here, people decide whether something is in, which means it's stylish and appealing, or out, which means it's not. And it changes all the time. Why, just a couple of weeks ago, dark was out, and light was in."

"Dark is in, huh?" Mr. Poe said. "Wait until I tell my wife. In the meantime, could you show us where the elevator is? Mr. and Mrs. Squalor live in the penthouse apartment, and I don't want to walk all the way to the top floor."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to," the doorman said. "There's a pair of elevator doors right over there, but they won't be of any use to you."

"Is the elevator out of order?" Violet asked, "I'm very good with mechanical devices, and I'd be happy to take a look at it."

"That's a very kind and unusual offer," the doorman said, "But the elevator isn't out of order. It's just out. The neighborhood decided that elevators were out, so they had the elevator shut down. Stairs are in, though, so there's still a way to get to the penthouse. Let me show you."

He led us across the lobby to a very long, curved wooden staircase with a metal banister that curved alongside. Candles were placed along the staircase and cast a dim glow on the walls. The stairs seemed to go up and up and up to the where they disappeared in the darkness.

"Wow," I said, in awe.

"I've never seen anything like this," Klaus said.

"It looks more like a cave than a staircase," Violet said.

"Or a castle," I said, "or the Tower of Terror."

"Pinse!" Sunny said, which was a word I could understand and probably meant, "Or outer space!"

"It looks like a long walk to me," Mr. Poe said, frowning, "How many floors does it go up?"

The doorman shrugged his shoulders. "I can't remember," he said, "I think it's either forty-eight or eighty-four floors."

"That's nearly as high up as the Empire State Building or the Twin Towers were when they were still standing," Klaus said.

"Well, whether it's forty-eight or eighty-four," Mr. Poe said, "I don't have time to walk you children all the way up. I'll miss my helicopter. You'll have to go up by yourselves, and tell Mr. and Mrs. Squalor that I send my regards."

"We have to walk up by ourselves?" Violet said.

"Just be glad you don't have any of your things with you," Mr. Poe said. "Mrs. Squalor said there was no reason to bring any of your old clothing, and I think it was because she wanted to save you the effort of dragging suitcases up all those stairs."

"You're not going to come with us?" Klaus asked.

"I simply don't have the time to accompany you," Mr. Poe said, "and that is that."

I sighed.

"If you're afraid of the dark," Mr. Poe said, "I suppose I could delay my search for the Quagmires, and take you to your new guardians."

"That's okay," I said, "I'm not afraid of the dark."

"Neither are my siblings and I," Klaus said, "and finding the Quagmires is much more important."

"Obog," Sunny said, sounding doubtful.

"Just try to crawl as long as you can," Violet said to her, "and then Klaus and I will take turns carrying you."

"I'll help too," I offered, "Good-bye, Mr. Poe."

Good-bye, Mr. Poe."

"Good-bye, children," Mr. Poe said, "if there's any problem, remember you can always contact me or any of my associates at Mulctuary Money Management—at least, as soon as I get off the helicopter."

"There's one good thing about this staircase," the doorman said, as he guided Mr. Poe back to the front door. "It's all uphill from here."

He chuckled as he disappeared into the darkness. I felt a small tug inside me as if apart of me suspected something was up with the doorman. I shrugged off the odd feeling and faced the wooden staircase. I joined the Baudelaires whohad already started up the first few stairs.

As we climbed up the winding stairs that seemed to stretch on forever we could hear noises coming from inside the many apartments we passed. Like when we reached the nineteenth floor we could hear a woman say "Let them eat cake" in a voice with a strange accent.

"I wonder what people will hear when they walk by the penthouse apartment," Violet wondered out loud, "when we are living there."

"I hope they hear me turning pages," Klaus said. "Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Squalor will have some interesting books to read."

"Or maybe people will hear me using a wrench," Violet said, "I hope the Squalors have some tools they'd let me use for my inventing."

"Or maybe people will hear me singing or playing an instrument or even acting," I said, "Maybe the Squalors have a piano I can play or some scripts to look at. But if they don't, I suppose I could settle for watching movies with my favorite actors and actresses."

"Crife!" Sunny said, from where she crawled along beside us. I didn't need to understand Sunny's language to know what she meant.

Violet looked down at Sunny and smiled. "I don't think that will be a problem, Sunny," she said, "You usually find something or other to bite. Be sure to speak up when you want us to start carrying you."

"I wish somebody would carry me," Klaus said, and clutched the banister for support. "I'm getting tired."

"Me too," Violet admitted. I nodded in agreement. "You would think, after Count Olaf made us run all of those laps when he was disguised as a gym teacher, that these stairs wouldn't tire us out, but that's not the case. What floor are we on, anyway?"

"I don't know," I said, leaning forward and squinting at one of the doors, "there don't seem to be any numbers on the doors. I've lost count."

"Well, we won't miss the penthouse," Violet said. "It's on the top floor, so we'll just keep walking until the stairs stop."

"I wish you could invent a device that could take us up the stairs," Klaus said.

"That device was invented a long time ago," she said, a hint of a smile in her voice. "It's called an elevator. But elevators are out, remember?"

"And tired feet are in," Klaus said, and I could hear a smile in his voice too.

"Clearly, the people in this building must love exercising," I said, smiling too, "You probably don't even have to bother visiting a gym or jogging outside. You burn all your calories just by walking up and down these stairs everyday."

"Remember that time," Violet said mostly to Klaus and Sunny. But I listened, I enjoyed hearing stories about the Baudelaires lives before the fire. I liked to imagine my life would have been similar if I grew up with a family too, "when our parents attended the Sixteenth Annual Run-a-Thon, and their feet were so tired when they got home that Dad prepared dinner while sitting on the kitchen floor, instead of standing?"

"Of course I remember," Klaus said, "We had only salad, because they couldn't stand up and reach the stove."

"That sounds like the perfect meal for Aunt Josephine," I said, referring to our old guardian, "I wonder why she never just made salad instead of that cucumber soup. Of course, it was cold because she was afraid that the stove might explode."

"Pomres," Sunny said sadly, which meant, "As it turned out, the stove was the least of Aunt Josephine's problems."

"That's true," Violet said quietly. Someone from behind a door sneezed.

"I wonder what the Squalors will be like," Klaus said.

"Well, they must be wealthy to live on Dark Avenue," Violet said.

"And they must be active people if they're going to live on the penthouse of a building with no elevator," I said.

"Akrofil," Sunny said, which meant, "And they're not afraid of heights, that's for sure."

Klaus smiled in the darkness and looked down at Sunny. "You sound tired, Sunny," he said. "Violet and I can take turns carrying you. We'll switch every three floors."

"I can help carry Sunny too," I offered.

"That's very nice of you, Jane," Violet said.

Violet took the first turn carrying Sunny and from there we switched every three floors. The climb up these lengthy stairs seemed to last for what seemed like forever.

"If only these stairs were enough to stop Count Olaf," I muttered, "I'm hoping he gets too tired to come after us but I don't think he could ever get tired of that."

"It seems nothing will ever stop him," Klaus said.

"I doubt that Olaf hid the Quagmires on that mountain," I said, "I was on lockdown at his home when I was in his clutches. And why wouldn't he be at his home or somewhere in the city at least? He's still after us and he would never let the Quagmires out of his sight like that. I wonder who told Mr. Poe that."

"You're probably right," Violet said, "I wasn't so sure if Mr. Poe was right about that information. But does that mean he's going to bring the Quagmires along when he comes after us again? Like he did with you?"

I shrugged. "He might," I said, "but my involvement in helping to foil his plans to get your fortune and escaping might make him change his strategy up a little. If they're not with him like I was then, we can at least assume that they'll be nearby. Otherwise, they'll be at his home, probably."

"Ekopo!" Sunny said, from Klaus' arms, which meant, "Then maybe we'll have to be the ones to find and rescue them."

Violet nodded. "It'll be very dangerous," she said, "but we can't let the Quagmires down."

"I'm a little scared about Count Olaf's next scheme," I admitted, looking down at my feet, "I have a strange feeling that something even worse will happen. I don't want to end up in his clutches again."

"You won't," Klaus said, firmly, "even if he tried to kidnap you, the authorities will be able to stop him. It would take too long to go down these stairs."

"But it is quite dark," I said, "what if no one notices I'm gone until later."

"We'll notice," Violet said, "so don't worry so much about it."

I nodded but sighed. That didn't really help me feel any less worried and the feeling continued to gnaw at my stomach.

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**Who else is excited for HP7 Part 2?**

**I'll try to update soon!**


	2. The Squalors

**Here's a new chapter! :) It's a little short but the next one i think will be longer and more will happen.**

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 2: The Squalors<span>**

It took us until the evening until we finally reached a dead end on the staircase. We walked into a small room with a candle in the middle of the carpet. The apartment door was in front of us and against the right wall were a pair of elevator doors with arrowed buttons beside them.

"Just think," Violet said, breathing heavily from our long hike up the stairs, "if elevators were in, we would have arrived at the Squalor penthouse in just a few minutes."

"Well, maybe they'll be back in soon," Klaus said, "I hope so. The other door must be to the Squalor's apartment. Let's knock."

"Thank goodness," I said, "I hope they have food, I'm so hungry." As I said it my stomach growled, a little too loudly. "Oops." Klaus chuckled silently, making me blush, and knocked on the door.

It immediately swung open. A tall man, wearing a suit with long, narrow stripes down it, appeared in the doorway.

"I thought I heard someone approaching the door," the man said, giving us a broad smile. "Please come in. My name is Jerome Squalor, and I'm so happy that you've come to stay with us."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Squalor," Violet said as we walked into an entryway that was also dim-lit. "I'm Violet Baudelaire, and this is my brother Klaus, my sister, Sunny, and our good friend Jane Rumary."

"Goodness, you sound out of breath," Mr. Squalor said, "Luckily, I can find two things to do about that. One is that you can stop calling me Mr. Squalor and start calling me Jerome. I'll call you four by your first names, too, and that way, we'll all save breath. The second thing is that I'll make you a nice, cold martini. Come right this way."

"A martini?" Klaus asked, "Isn't that an alcoholic beverage?"

"Usually, it is," Jerome agreed, "But right now, alcoholic martinis are out. Aqueous martinis are in. An aqueous martini is simply cold water served in a fancy glass with an olive in it, so it's perfectly legal for children as well as adults."

"I've never had an aqueous martini," Violet said, "but I'll try one."

"Ah!" Jerome cried, "You're adventurous! I like that in a person. Your mother was adventurous too. You know, she and I were very good friends a ways back. We hiked up Mount Fraught with some friends—gosh, it must have been twenty years ago. Mount Fraught was known for having very dangerous animals on it, but your mother wasn't afraid. But then, swooping out of the sky—"

"Jerome, who was that at the door?" A voice from the next room called. A tall, thin woman came in, dressed in a pinstripe suit. She had necklength, dark hair that was neatly groomed and curled up at the ends. It was also very shiny and looked like it had been hairsprayed into place. Her fingernails were long and polished enough that they shone even in the dim light.

"The children, of course," Jerome said, "The Baudelaires and Miss Rumary."

"But they're not coming today!" she cried.

"Of course they are," Jerome said. "I've been looking forward to it for days and days! You know," He turned from the woman to face us. "I wanted to adopt you from the moment I heard about the fire. I didn't really know about your situation until later," he said to me, "and though I never knew your parents, I knew that any friend of the Baudelaires would be a pleasure to take care of. But, unfortunately it was impossible."

"Orphans were out then," Mrs. Squalor explained. "Now they're in."

"My wife is always very attentive to what's in and what's out," Jerome said. "I don't care about it much, but Esmé feels differently. She was the one who insisted on having the elevator removed. Esmé, I was just about to make them some aqueous martinis. Would you like one?"

"Oh, yes!" Esmé cried. "Aqueous martinis are in!" She walked quickly over to us and looked us over. "I'm Esmé Gigi Geniveve Squalor, the city's sixth most important financial advisor," she announced as if she were introducing herself as the Queen of England. "Even though I am unbelievably wealthy, you may call me Esmé. I'll learn your names later—except for you…" Esmé had moved her gaze on me. "Who are you?"

"I'm Jane Rumary," I said, "I'm the Baudelaires' friend."

Esmé smiled. "I thought you were another Baudelaire orphan," she said, "but you look nothing like the others. Anyways, I'm happy you're here, because orphans are in, and when all my friends hear that I have four real live orphans, they'll be sick with jealousy, won't they, Jerome?"

"I hope not," Jerome said, leading us down a long hallway to a huge room with many fancy and expensive looking couches, chairs, and tables. There were a ton of windows at the far end of the room. All of their shades were drawn, of course. "I don't like hearing of anybody getting sick. Well, have a seat, children, and we'll tell you a little bit about your new home."

We took our seats in four huge chairs. I was relieved to finally get some rest. Jerome prepared us some aqueous martinis with the pitcher of water, the bowl of olives, and a ton of fancy glasses that sat on one of the tables. "Here you go," he said, handing Esmé, the Baudelaires, and I some aqueous martinis. "Let's see. In case you ever get lost, remember that your new address is 667 Dark Avenue in the penthouse apartment."

"Oh, don't tell them silly things like that," Esmé said, waving her hand in front of her face. "Children, here are some things you should know. Dark is in. Light is out. Stairs are in. Elevators are out. Pinstripe suits are in. Those horrible clothes you are wearing are out."

I looked down at what I was wearing, slightly offended until I realized, as harsh as it was to say, Esmé was speaking the truth. I would never label my clothes as being 'fashionable'. I barely had any clothes and the ones I did own, were itchy, worn, or they didn't fit me properly. Even my feet felt a little squished at the moment. Of course, I still had that dress from that New York Boarding School that we attended. It was probably the best piece of clothing I have and it's not even mine.

"What Esmé means," Jerome interjected quickly, "is that we want you to feel as possible."

"That's very nice of you," I said, as I took a sip of my aqueous martini. I wasn't a fan of olives so I didn't really like it but it quenched my thirst.

"Mr. Poe told me about some of your previous guardians," Jerome said, shaking his head. "I feel awful that you've had such terrible experiences, and that we could have cared for you the entire time."

"It couldn't be helped," Esmé said. "When something is out, it's out, and orphans used to be out."

"I heard all about this Count Olaf person, too," Jerome said. "I told the doorman not to let anyone in the building who looked even vaguely like that despicable man, so you should be safe."

"That's a relief," Klaus said, though I didn't feel the same. If Olaf could fool the 'safest' Boarding School in country, and an advanced computer system, surely he could fool the doorman.

"That dreadful man is supposed to be up on some mountain, anyway," Esmé said. "Remember, Jerome? That unstylish banker said he was going away in a helicopter to go find those twins he kidnapped." The Baudelaires and I exchanged doubtful glances as we recalled our discussion on the matter earlier today.

"Actually," Violet said, "they're triplets. The Quagmires are good friends of ours."

"My word!" Jerome said. "You must be worried sick!"

"Yes," I said, "In fact, just a while ago, I had been kidnapped by Count Olaf too."

"Luckily," Klaus said, "Jane escaped."

"Though, the Quagmires weren't as lucky," I said, "I'm afraid they might be going through worse than I went through."

"Well," Esmé said, flashing me a kind smile, "maybe the Quagmires will be found soon and then we could adopt them, too. Six orphans! I'll be the innest person in town!"

"We certainly have room for them," Jerome said. "This is a seventy-one-bedroom apartment, children, so you will have your pick of rooms. Klaus, Poe mentioned something about your being interested in inventing things, is that right?"

"My sister's the inventor," Klaus replied, "I'm more of a researcher myself."

"Well, then," Jerome said. "You can have the bedroom next to the library, and Violet can have the one that has a large wooden bench, perfect for keeping tools. Sunny can be in the room in between you two. And what about you Jane, what are you interested in?"

"Acting and singing," I replied.

"Oh, I love the acting _and_ singing too," Esmé said, flashing me another smile, this time showing her white teeth, "How smashing is it that we have those things in common?"

I smiled. "Very smashing," I said, liking the sound of that word.

"That's great that you share similar interests," Jerome said, "Can you play any instruments?"

I nodded. "I can play the piano and the guitar."

"Well, then," Jerome said, "you can have the room that's closer to our piano. How does that sound?"

I was about to say how wonderfully amazing I thought it sounded, when the telephone ringing interrupted our conversation.

"I'll get it! I'll get it!" Esmé cried, and dashed to answer the phone. "Squalor residence," she said into the receiver and waited for the person hat the other end to speak. "Yes, this is Mrs. Squalor. Yes. Yes. Yes? Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She hung up the phone and faced us. "Guess what?" she asked. "I have some fantastic news on what we were talking about!"

"The Quagmires have been found?" Klaus asked hopefully.

"Who?" Esmé asked. "Oh, them. No, they haven't been found. Don't be silly. Jerome, children, listen to me—dark is out! Regular light is in!"

"Well, I'm not sure I'd call that fantastic news," Jerome said, "but it will be a relief to get some light around this place. Come on, children, help me open the shades and you can get a look at our view. You can see quite a bit from so high up."

"I'll go turn on all the lamps in the penthouse," Esmé said, eagerly. "Quickly, before anyone sees that this apartment is still dark!"

Esmé raced from the room while we followed Jerome over to the windows. We helped him open the heavy shades. Immediately, sunlight streamed into the room. I had to squint until my eyes adjusted to the change of light. We could now see the furniture; pillows embroidered with silver, one of my favorite colors and the chairs were painted gold. All the tables were made from wood carved from the finest trees.

I looked back out the windows, onto the city below us.

"Spectacular view, don't you think?" Jerome asked us. I nodded in agreement. I'd never been higher up in my life. All the buildings, roads, cars, and people looked almost microscopic. I could see where the Baudelaires house used to stand and the street Mr. Poe lived on.

"I knew you'd like it," Jerome said. "It's very expensive to live in a penthouse apartment, but I think it's worth it for a view like this. Look, those tiny round boxes over there are orange juice factories. That sort of purplish building near the park is my favorite restaurant. Oh, and look straight down—they're already cutting down those awful trees that made our street so dark."

"Of course they're cutting them down," Esmé said, as she hurried back into the room and blew out some candles sitting on the mantelpiece. "Regular light is in—as in as aqueous martinis, pinstripes, and orphans."

The Baudelaires and I looked down onto the street below us and saw that Jerome had spoken the truth. Gardeners, leaving only bare stumps, were chopping down all those trees. It seemed such a pity that those trees were being wasted like that. It made me wonder what was going to happen to us when orphans were no longer in too. When I looked at the Baudelaires, I knew they were all thinking the same thing.

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	3. Life In Squalor

**Hey everyone! A new chapter is up so enjoy! :) Sorry for the hold up, i've been at my lake house for the last two weeks where we get no internet so i couldn't update until now...**

**I decided to add in some moments with Jane and Klaus so i hope you like them! :) **

**Anyways, as usual, R&R!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Life In Squalor<strong>

Life at the penthouse was going quite smoothly for me. In the mornings, Esmé had to leave for work so Jerome would take us out around the city. The city was the Baudelaire's hometown and so they liked to revisit some of their favorite places. We went to Violet's favorite place, the Verne Invention Museum. She was excited to see that the museum's exhibits hadn't changed much. I even found myself enjoying all the cool inventions. Sunny liked to visit the Pincus Hospital where she was born. Klaus took us to the Akhmatova Bookstore. When we entered the small, but cozy bookstore, where I realized I had purchased a cookbook, Klaus was beaming with excitement as if we were at Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory rather than a typical bookstore. It made me smile too.

One day we were looking at all the hundreds of books stocked on shelves, stretching up towards the ceiling. I followed Klaus over to the encyclopedias. I picked one off the shelf and ran my fingers along the smooth surface. I weighed the book in my palm, feeling the heaviness of it.

"These books are huge," I said, "how do you manage to read such a big book?"

"The same way you managed to read The Host," Klaus muttered, chuckling.

His referral to Stephenie Meyer's very long book, The Host, made me laugh too. I put the heavy book back in the spot I'd taken it from. I moved down the row of books until I found the fiction section. I felt Klaus tap me on the shoulder and I turned to see him holding two of those encyclopedias.

"Can I show you something?" he asked.

"What is it?" I asked, "Did you find something interesting in one of those books?"

"I haven't opened them yet so no," Klaus said, "it's something else. Follow me."

Klaus walked towards the back of the bookstore, past rows and rows of fresh books waiting to be read. I followed him and when we got to the end, Klaus reached out and pushed against the wall. It opened like a door. As I looked more closely, I realized that it had been a door, sort of like a secret door. Behind the door was a small, carpeted staircase.

Klaus began to climb it, his pace quickening. I bounded up after him. He reached the top and disappeared into a room above. When I finally reached the last step, I looked up at my surroundings. More bookshelves lined the walls, but what made the room so special weren't the books. For around the room were groups of large comfy red chairs, cute little wooden tables, and some beanbags.

I looked around the room for Klaus. I found him sitting in a small alcove in one of the corners. A window seat had been built near the alcove and I sat down on the soft red cushion someone had laid on top of it. Two golden pillows were placed on either side.

From where I sat, I gazed down at the city. I hadn't realized we were so high up. Of course, the view and height was nothing compared to the Squalor's penthouse but the window did give a good view of the baby, blue sky and the bright sun, shining down at us like a jewel.

"Is this what you wanted to show me?" I asked Klaus.

Klaus nodded. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah," I said, "it's nice and cozy. I think I could curl up with a good book right now."

"My dad used to take me here a lot," Klaus said, "It was our special treat. He liked to bring me up here and read for a little bit. He liked to sit right where you're sitting right now. Sometimes he would read to me, sometimes I would read to him, or sometimes we read silently to ourselves. Either way, I had a good time. After he would buy me an atlas or an encyclopedia." Klaus stared at his feet, shifting them ever so slightly.

Klaus' recalling the importance of this place gave me a weird feeling. I felt as if I was intruding on something by being in here. This place was clearly made for memories between Klaus and his father when he was alive. It also made me wonder why he wanted to bring me here. Why not Violet or Sunny? Surely, they had more memories with Klaus in this place than I ever will.

Klaus looked up then, and shook his head as if trying to clear it. "Sorry," he said.

"Don't be. It's okay to be sad," I said, giving him a small smile, "I don't mind it when people cry, though, sometimes it makes me cry too."

Klaus just smiled as tears glazed over his eyes. He blinked and a tear escaped down his cheek. I got up from where I was sitting and walked over to the alcove. I sat down beside him, taking his hand, and wrapping a comforting arm around him. Klaus let a few more tears escape and I stayed by his side while he let out the sorrow that was probably a burden to him. Sometimes I teared up when I thought about my own parents, but it was different because I didn't have many memories of them. Still, seeing Klaus cry made a few tears pour down my cheeks too.

"I'm really glad you're with us," Klaus said, wiping his eyes after a while, "It's bad enough that Olaf kidnapped the Quagmires. If he had gotten you again, I—"

"It's okay, Klaus," I said. The last thing I wanted was for Klaus to waste his time worrying about me. "Don't worry, I escaped, didn't I? So there's no reason to dwell on the past. Now, we need to focus on rescuing the Quagmires. Olaf might still be on our tails, if he isn't put to a stop in the process, but at least we'll be together. Then, we can work on trying to find out what V.F.D. means. Besides, he won't get me again." I said, though I wasn't sure if I really believed that was true, "He can't just snatch me since I'm never usually by myself anywhere except for when we're in the penthouse but he won't be able to get in even if he tried without Esmé or Jerome stopping him. And if he tries to bribe me by threatening you or making more promises like last time, I'll know not to listen."

"Good," Klaus whispered.

"You were the one who told _me_ not to worry," I added, cocking my eyebrows.

"I know," Klaus said, "but it doesn't mean that I still don't worry about it happening."

"Well, it's not going to," I said. I was going to say 'I promise' but I held back my words. I didn't want to make a promise that might just be broken.

* * *

><p>In the afternoons, we hung out around the enormous penthouse apartment. The penthouse apartment was as enormous as it was at first glance. As great as it was to have a big home with lots of room, it was also a bit of a nuisance since it was easy to get lost. I would leave my room to play the piano or use the bathroom and not be able to find my way back. Klaus had a habit of putting his glasses down on the kitchen counter but he could never remember which kitchen. So he would sometimes alert me if I was nearby and we would spend the entire afternoon trying to find them.<p>

"If this keeps happening," I said, after we found them again the second time it happened, "I'm going to have to call you Velma."

"Like from Scooby Doo?" Klaus asked, amused.

"Who else?" I said, "She always loses her glasses. If I don't call you Velma, then we'll at least have to duct tape or super glue them to your nose."

Klaus laughed. "I'll try to not lose them again."

Not only was the penthouse an easy place to get lost in, the Baudelaires and I were constantly worried about the Quagmires. We knew they were enduring much worse. It didn't seem fair that we were living in such a luxurious home while the Quagmires were living in Olaf's home and probably doing chores. I just hoped they listened to me and went to find Monty Kensicle. At least, he would be of some help, if they needed it.

Otherwise, things were going smoothly, for me, at least. For the Baudelaires they found themselves really bored. Violet had the room with the bench, which was great for keeping tools, except she didn't have any tools. The penthouse didn't even have a pair of pliers. Esmé explained to Violet that tools were out. Sunny had the room in between Violet and Klaus, but she had nothing to bite. The only toys she was given were much too soft for her four, very sharp teeth. Klaus was even bored of the nice library near his bedroom. When I asked he told me the only books in it were about fashion.

I didn't encounter many problems with the piano near my bedroom. However, Esmé strictly told me that I wasn't allowed to play classical music, especially Mozart, Beethoven, or Bach. When I asked why, she said that she had to go and would explain it later. By the time later came, I'd moved on to other things and didn't bother asking again.

So in the afternoons, I would sit on the bench of the Squalor's grand Steinway piano and play all my favorite tunes. The only problem was that the Squalor's didn't have a lot of songbooks so I could only play songs that I knew off by heart and maybe the choruses of songs I didn't know too well. Klaus liked to sit with me sometimes and listen. I even taught him the chords and a few easy songs I knew. He was disappointed that I was banned from playing classical music since he wanted to learn how to play Mozart's 14th symphony. It was the only symphony of Mozart's that I learned. Though, I did know a few of Beethoven's quartets.

"I haven't heard you sing in a while," Klaus said, suddenly as I was playing the first bar to '_How To Save A Life_' by the Fray.

"Are you trying to get me to sing?" I asked, cocking my head.

"Maybe," Klaus said, sheepishly.

"Alright fine," I said, unable to refuse. I felt like I owed Klaus, since, he helped with my Company performance to make me look and sound as best as I could. I also felt guilty, since I'd been so caught up with Christina and Kate.

I stopped playing the previous song and instead launched into _Keep Holding On_ by Avril Lavigne:

"_You're not alone_

_Together we stand_

_I'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand_

_When it gets cold_

_And it feels like the end_

_There's no place to go_

_You know I won't give in_

_No I won't give in_

_Keep holding on_

_'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

_Just stay strong_

_'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you_

_There's nothing you could say_

_Nothing you could do_

_There's no other way when it comes to the truth_

_So keep holding on_

_'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

_So far away_

_I wish you were here_

_Before it's too late, this could all disappear_

_Before the doors close_

_And it comes to an end_

_With you by my side I will fight and defend_

_I'll fight and defend_

_Yeah, yeah_

_Keep holding on_

_'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

_Just stay strong_

_'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you_

_There's nothing you could say_

_Nothing you could do_

_There's no other way when it comes to the truth_

_So keep holding on_

_'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

_Hear me when I say, when I say I believe_

_Nothing's gonna change, nothing's gonna change destiny_

_Whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah_

_La da da da_

_La da da da_

_La da da da da da da da da_

_Keep holding on_

_'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

_Just stay strong_

_'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you_

_There's nothing you could say_

_Nothing you could do_

_There's no other way when it comes to the truth_

_So keep holding on_

_'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

_Keep holding on_

_Keep holding on_

_There's nothing you could say_

_Nothing you could do_

_There's no other way when it comes to the truth_

_So keep holding on_

_'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through…" _

I finished playing and we both were wearing smiles on our faces. Despite the Quagmires being in Olaf's clutches still and the fact that the penthouse was incredibly huge, we couldn't help but smile as this moment took away all our misery for just a few moments. I hadn't realized how much I missed spending times like this with Klaus.

* * *

><p>A few weeks went by and despite some of our issues, i managed to stay in good spirits here. The Squalors were very nice gardians, though, Esmé wasn't around all the time. Sometimes she insulted us or acted rudely toward us, but it was always with good intentions...I think. One time I was playing the Squalors' piano by myself and when I looked up from the keyboard, I saw Esmé Squalor standing in the doorway as if she'd been listening. She held an aqueous martini in her right hand and smiled when I glanced at her.<p>

"Hello, Esmé," I said, adjusting my skirt.

"What were you playing?" she asked, coming over to sit beside me on the piano bench.

"_Someone Like You_," I said, my cheeks turned slightly pink, "by Adele."

Esmé frowned. "I don't know that song," she said.

"Don't worry," I said, quickly, "It's not classical music."

"Oh, I know that," Esmé said, she ran her hands along the keys, "I used to play the piano all the time when I was your age. In fact, I was quite the actress too. I performed in tons of theatrical shows."

"Really?" I said, brightening, "That's really cool."

Esmé smiled so I could see all her straight, pearly, white teeth and her eyes twinkled. I noticed her eyes were blue like the sea with flecks of green. Her dark brown hair hung around her face in an elegant way.

"You have the prettiest hair," Esmé said, pushing my hair back behind my shoulders, "I used to have hair just like yours when I was a little girl and I spent hours brushing it. It seems we have many things in common, right?"

I nodded.

"Which is why I wanted to ask you something," Esmé continued.

"Okay," I said, when she didn't speak again.

"There's an In Auction coming up this week," she said, "and tonight an auctioneer is going to come over here for a little meeting. Of course, I'm the innest person on this street so he wants to go over the items with me. I've told him all about you children and he wants one of you to join us. You're probably the most fashionable out of all you orphans and I was wondering if you would accompany us."

"Me?" I said, "Are you sure?"

Esmé nodded. "Of course, since you've been an orphan all your life it's been difficult for you to properly follow fashion trends," she said, "that's why I'm glad I became your guardian so I could show you how to be stylish. In fact, I know just the thing to really get you on track with fashion. I've got a little present for you. I'll be right back."

She got up and hurried from the room. Esmé appeared again a few minutes later carrying a shopping bag with the words, _**In Boutique,**_scrawled on it in fancy letters. Then she reached inside and pulled out an outfit including a blazer, pants, and a pair of black classy shoes with a closed toe and a small pointy heel.

"It's a pinstripe suit," Esmé said, excitedly. She held up the clothes so I could see them better. "I couldn't bear to have you going around in such out clothes."

I reminded myself that Esmé was right, no matter how harsh it sounded. So instead of getting upset at Esmé, I smiled broadly.

"Thank you, Esmé," I said, "That was very kind of you."

Esmé smiled and handed them to me. "Why don't you go and try them on?" she asked, "I was thinking you could wear it for tonight." She lifted up the shoes and I took them too.

I hurried to my bedroom and put on the blazer and the pants. They didn't fit me perfectly; they were at least two sizes too big, but it wasn't too much of a big deal. I tried on the shoes next and wobbled as I took a few small steps forward.

I came out of my bedroom and found Esmé waiting outside. She came over and adjusted my outfit a bit, smoothing down the collar. Then she led me over to a mirror.

"Look how in you look," Esmé pointed to my reflection. Despite the outfit being big and maybe a little too professional looking for a kid, I had to admit, I didn't look too bad. I spun around to look at every inch of it.

"It's great, Esmé," I said, "I really like it. Thank you very much."

Esmé looked thrilled.

"And you'll wear it tonight to help with the In Auction?" Esmé asked.

"Okay," I said, "but what about the Baudelaires?"

"They'll be fine," Esmé said, "I've arranged for them to go to dinner with Jerome at Café Salmonella. Besides, they probably aren't really interested in fashion."

I shrugged. "I guess so," I said, "well, thanks again."

"Alright," Esmé said, "Now, if you don't mind, I've got to start preparing dinner for tonight."

"Can I help with anything?" I asked, politely.

"Actually," Esmé said, "I was thinking you could give the Baudelaires their own pinstripe suits to put on."

"Of course," I said, "I'll be back as soon as possible."

"And why don't you get them to put on the other suits?" Esmé asked.

"Alright," I said, and went off to find the others.

* * *

><p>"Hey Klaus," I singsonged as I knocked on his bedroom door.<p>

I heard him going to answer the door and I quickly put on my best professional look. The door swung open and Klaus was hit with a wave of bewilderment. Then, he smiled, looking amused.

"Why are you wearing that, Jane?" Klaus asked, chuckling to himself, "I had no idea you liked to wear pinstripe suits."

"I'm wearing it because it's in, _obviously_," I said, faking a scoff, "and it looks smashing." I placed my hands firmly on my hips. Then, I smiled sheepishly. "Ever since Esmé used that word, I've been waiting for an excuse to use it myself."

Klaus chuckled. "Well, you sound like Esmé," he muttered.

"She's the one who bought it for me," I said, "And look." I reached for the shopping bags that I had placed outside the door. "She got them for you, Violet, and Sunny, too." I handed him the bag. "Go try it on."

"Alright," Klaus said, holding the bag like it was going to bite him. "Though I kind of wish it was a book." He closed the door to his bedroom I waited outside while he changed.

When he came out wearing the pinstripe suit identical to mine except the cut was a little different., I couldn't hold back my laughter. The suit was so big that it covered his hands and went past his feet.

"Whoa, Klaus," I kidded, "I didn't ask you to make your arms and legs disappear. You look like you're skiing."

Klaus looked at himself and cracked a grin.

"I do," he said, laughing at himself, "except my skis are made out of cotton rather than aluminum alloy. How come mine is so much bigger than yours?"

"I have no clue," I said, "my suit is at least two sizes too big but I didn't really make too big of a deal out of it. I can't expect Esmé to know my exact size. But now that your suit is…well…huge, I think Esmé forgot that we aren't adult sized."

Klaus sighed. "Maybe I'll just roll the sleeves up," he said, beginning to roll up the cuffs on his sleeves and then, decided to do the same to his pant legs.

"How do I look?" he asked.

"Redonculous," I said, winking.

Klaus gave me that same half-odd, half-amused look. "I don't think that word is in the dictionary. I've read the entire dictionary and never came across that word once."

Now it was my turn to give him a half-odd, half-amused glance. "You've read the entire dictionary?" My eyes were wide. Klaus looked down, embarrassed, his cheeks turning red. "Don't be embarrassed," I said quickly, "I actually find it interesting."

"Really?" Klaus asked, brightening. I wasn't lying, either. At first, it sounded like an odd thing to do, but Klaus wasn't an ordinary person and that was one of the reasons why I liked him.

"Yeah," I said, "I've never meant anyone who's ever done that before. I guess I should've known since you know so many big words. Anyways, we should probably go break the news to Violet and Sunny."

"I think they're both in Violet's room," Klaus said.

"Come on then." I grabbed the other two bags and we hurried to Violet's room. Klaus knocked on the door.

"Make your best pose," I told him, quickly, as we waited, "Hurry."

Klaus gave me yet another mixed glance but posed with his hand on his chin, deep in thought. "Like a lawyer," he whispered to me. So I placed my hands on my hips and tossed my hair back to pretend that I was a big movie star. I mimed putting on sunglasses and put my best haughty look on my face.

Violet opened the door and Sunny was behind her. When they saw us, they wore the same expression as Klaus did when he saw me earlier. Then, they cracked grins and started chuckling. At that, Klaus and I exploded into laughter too.

"What are you two doing?" Violet asked when we stopped laughing.

"Pipia," Sunny said, which meant, "Why are you wearing those outfits?"

"Esmé bought pinstripe suits for all of us," I explained. I lifted up the two shopping bags.

"Klaus's suit is huge," Violet said.

"I had to roll up my sleeves and pants," Klaus said, "but I think they're all big like this."

"Oh, my," Violet said.

"Esmé told me you were supposed to wear them tonight," I continued to explain.

"We'll wear them, I guess," Violet said, "but I hope she'll take us to get them tailored, at least."

Violet and Sunny went back into their rooms to change into their suits, while Klaus and I waited outside. When they came back out, their suits were just as big as Klaus's. Violet's fit her better than Klaus, since she was at least four feet taller. Still, she had to roll up the pant legs and cuffs. Sunny was probably the worst. Her suit was so big that she looked like she was a lump in the carpet.

"How can we wear these to dinner," Violet said, staring down at herself, "when we can barely move in these? Even rolling up our sleeves and pant legs don't really help."

I shrugged. "There isn't much we can do," I said, "maybe Esmé and Jerome will clear it up when we see them. They want us in the living room as usual."

So we went to meet Jerome and Esmé in the living room for drinking aqueous martinis and discussing tonight's events. Esmé told the Baudelaires, and apparently, Jerome too, about the upcoming In Auction. She explained that the Baudelaires were to go out to dinner tonight with Jerome at Café Salmonella and I was going to stay here. The Baudelaires were reluctant to go and leave me here, and Jerome wasn't too comfortable with the idea. However, Jerome didn't want to argue with Esmé so he agreed. Esmé ordered us to get ready for tonight. Since the Baudelaires and I were both ready, we decided to wait for the Squalor's at the front door.

That was when I had an idea...

* * *

><p>We borrowed a camera from Jerome. It was an old Polaroid camera that produced the photos right away, though we would have to wait for a few minutes for the pictures to show. Esmé didn't want us using a new camera so we had to stick with the old one since it was less expensive and we wouldn't have to go to a store to get the photos afterwards.<p>

We only had a few minutes to take photos so we took it to the front door and placed it on a table across from the front door. We set the timer and took our places for a group picture. First, we took a nice photo with all of us, though; it was hard to get something truly 'nice' because of our outfits. But we didn't mind it. After taking two with all four of us, we took two more of just the Baudelaires. Then, Violet took the camera and took a few pictures of me. After taking a full-length photo of me, she took two close ups. Finally, we decided to take a group goofy photo.

"Gangster poses!" I cried and I took the hat Jerome had lent us. I place it on my head and then popped my collar. Violet and Klaus stood on either side of me with their arms crossed and making the stereotypical gangster sign with their hands. Sunny sat in the front-center position and crossed her arms, too.

_Click,_ the camera snapped a photo once and then twice. Violet collected the photos and put them on table to dry. We studied the other photos while we waited for the rest of them to clear.

"I like this one," Klaus said, pointing to the one of the close-up pictures of me.

"Really?" I said. I didn't really agree with him though. I thought my face looked too pale, probably from the lighting or the resolution of the camera. I didn't usually have pale skin, instead, it was just medium-toned. My golden, blonde hair looked dull and I had dark circles under my eyes.

I haven't slept well since before the fire that almost killed me in that shack. I keep having endless nightmares. Before I was thrown into this mess, my nightmares were only filled with replays of that night when Carmelita tried to kill me. Those dreams were more peaceful than the nightmares I have now. All of them have to do with Count Olaf and with each new location and scheme, they keep getting worse. Now, they're the worst they've been so far ever since I escaped during our time at Prufrock Prep.

"This one looks good," I said, pointing to the group photo that was meant to be 'nice'. Except, our suits made us look almost like we were doing some kind of Vaudeville show. It was probably as good as it could get though.

"I think they all look great, please," A raspy voice, adjusted with some accent came from behind us.

The voice caused a chill to run up my spine as if someone had dropped ice down the back of my shirt. It felt like all the air had left my lungs and I was struggling to breathe properly.

I squeezed my eyes shut. 'No,' I kept thinking, 'Not now. Not while I'm happy.' I'd known ever since he swore it back at Prufrock Prep that he would return. As much as I tried to convince myself it wouldn't happen, I knew that when he did return, his scheme would get me back in his clutches somehow and then…I didn't want to think about it…every time I did it made me shudder and I broke into a nervous sweat.

In my nightmare, I was always running somewhere, being chased by him, and then, he'd gain on me. Sometimes I wasn't running, but hiding. He would stalk the place I was hiding in, knowing I was there. At the end of those dreams, I would wake up just as he grabbed me. But I realized, that this was worse than any of those nightmares. It was much, much worse, because it was real. I couldn't wake up from this nightmare.

I opened my eyes and slowly turned to face the person I feared most, staring down at us with those shiny, shiny eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Guess who it is? Count Olaf of course is back which is bad news for Jane and the Baudelaires.<strong>

**Also, i kind of have some bad news because i won't be able to update for the next three weeks because i'm going to camp :(**

**But i promise to update as soon as i get back!**


	4. Gunther

**Hey everyone! I'm back from camp and here's a new chapter!**

**Enjoy! R&R please! :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Gunther<strong>

"Hello, please," Count Olaf spoke when we didn't. I guessed the Baudelaires were just as scared, as I was, to speak. Count Olaf looked at us with his shiny eyes and a wicked smile. Being taken off guard seemed to amuse him.

Count Olaf was wearing another disguise. He wore a pinstripe suit like ours except, his fit better. On his feet, covering his tattoo was a pair of long, black boots. He wore a monocle too, that made him furrow his one eyebrow, thus, concealing it.

"You must be children, please," he continued, "The name of mine is Gunther. Please excuse the talking of me. Please, I am not fluent in the English language, please."

"How . . ." Violet managed, unable to formulate a sentence.

"Where . . ." Klaus said and then trailed off.

"Are . . ." I half-whispered. I meant to say, "Are you going to kidnap me again?"

Sunny shrieked something that was something I didn't understand. It sounded like, "Bik . . ."

"I see you are not fluent in the English language either, please," Count Olaf said. "I took a small step to the side so that I was standing closer to the Baudelaires. I felt vulnerable and weak without being near them. "Where is the mother and father?"

"We're not the mother and father," Esmé said, as she walked into the room with Jerome. Her voice made us jump in surprise. "We're their legal guardians. These children are orphans, Gunther."

"Ah!" Gunther said, his eyes even brighter, if that was even possible. "Orphans in!" His eyes scanned the four of us again as if it was Christmas morning and he was deciding which present to open first. His gaze rested on me and I felt myself taking another step closer to Klaus who was the closest to me. He noticed Gunther looking at me, and his moment of shock wore off. He narrowed his eyes at Gunther as he took my hand. That only seemed to further Gunther's amusement.

"I know orphans are in," Esmé said. "In fact, they're so in they ought to be auctioned off next week at the big event!"

"Esmé!" Jerome said. "I'm shocked! We're not going to auction off these children."

"Of course we're not," Esmé said. "Jerome, take the Baudelaires to Café Salmonella. Jane, you can come with us like I promised. Come on."

"But we haven't even introduced them," Jerome cut in, "Violet, Klaus, Sunny, Jane—meet Gunther, the auctioneer we talked about earlier, Gunther, meet the newest members of our family."

"This girl is not a sibling of theirs, please," Gunther said, pointing to me. I felt like pointing out that it was very rude to point, but I knew Gunther couldn't care less. Gunther pointing out that I wasn't a Baudelaire, made me feel, suddenly, out of place here.

Esmé placed a hand on my shoulder, which made me feel a little bit better. "No," she said, "this is Jane Rumary, she's an orphan too. In fact, Jane offered to accompany us tonight, didn't you, dear?"

I looked up at Esmé who was giving me a sweet smile and then, I glanced at Gunther, whose eyes shone so bright that I felt myself take an involuntary step back. I knew as soon as I'd seen him. He was the auctioneer, of course, and I would be alone with him, leaving just Esmé to protect me. And when we were alone, he'd probably kidnap me and somehow get out without Esmé noticing.

The Baudelaires realized it just as I did and their heads snapped in my direction, with alarmed looks on their faces.

"About that Esmé…" I started, trying to find an excuse not to stay without offending her, "I don't think I can. I don't know if I'd feel comfortable being away from the Baudelaires right now."

"Why?" Esmé said, looking disappointed, "You seemed fine with it before."

"I know," I replied, "but—"

"But I promised Gunther," Esmé said, "you're not going to make me go back on my word to the innest auctioneer in the world, are you?"

"He's not an auctioneer," Violet spoke up, "Actually, we've met before. _Many_ times before. Jerome and Esmé, this man is an imposter. He's not Gunther and he's not an auctioneer. This is Count Olaf."

"I am not understanding, please, what the orphan is saying," Olaf said. "Please, I am not fluent in the English language, please."

"Yes you are," Klaus said. "You speak English perfectly."

"Why, Klaus, I'm surprised at you!" Jerome said. "A well read person such as yourself must know he made a few grammatical errors."

"Waran!" Sunny shrieked.

"My sister is right," Violet said. "His improper English is just part of his disguise. If you make him take off his boots, you'll see his tattoo, and if you make him take off his monocle, his brow will unfurrow, and—"

"Gunther is one of the innest auctioneers in the world," Esmé said impatiently, "He told me so himself. I'm not going to make him get undressed just to make you feel better. Now shake Gunther's hand, and go off to dinner and we'll say no more about it. And Jane will stay with us, of course."

Klaus glanced at me and I could see the urgency I felt reflected back in his eyes. "He's not Gunther, I tell you!" Klaus cried. "He's Count Olaf."

"I am not knowing what you are saying, please," Gunther said, shrugging his bony shoulders.

"Esmé," Jerome said hesitantly. "How can we be sure this man is really who he says he is? The children do seem quite alarmed. Perhaps we should—"

"Perhaps we should listen to me," Esmé said, pointing one long fingernail at herself, "I am the Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor, the city's sixth most important financial advisor. I live on Dark Avenue, and I am unbelievably wealthy."

I closed my mouth as I had been getting ready to speak up about Gunther being an imposter too, but I knew even before I opened my mouth, it was useless. As nice as Esmé was to me, she didn't seem to like the Baudelaires as much. Despite that, even though she's always working, I've known her long enough to understand that when she's set her mind on something, she won't change it for a bunch of orphans no matter how in we are. How else would she have gotten to be the city's sixth most important finacial advisor? So arguing with Esmé would do nothing but upset her even further and it didn't seem like there was any way I could get out of staying here alone with Gunther and Esmé.

"I know that, dear," Jerome said. "I live with you."

"Well, if you want to continue to live with me, you will call this man by his proper name, and this goes for you three children as well. I go to the trouble of buying you some smashing pinstripe suits, and you start accusing people of being imposters!"

"It is okay, please," Count Olaf said, "the children are just confused, please."

"We're not confused, Olaf," Violet said, "and you're here to kidnap our Jane again."

Esmé turned to Violet, glaring angrily at her. "You, your siblings, and Jane, will call this man Gunther," she demanded, "or you will make me very, very sorry that I adopted you."

Violet looked like she was about to continue but faltered when she realized it was helpless to argue with Esmé. And that by now, we should realize, that adults never listen to us. So I turned to the man who had caused so much trouble in our already miserable lives. However, sometimes, I thought he could have been the reason for the Baudelaires misery in the beginning. So I lifted my chin and forced an apologetic smile on my face

"I'm sorry, Gunther," I choked out, "and Esmé. If it means that much to you, I'll stay."

"I'm sorry too," Violet said, forcefully, "We must have confused you with someone else."

"But—" Klaus started, glancing back and forth between Violet and I in disbelief. I looked away knowing he was probably mad at me for giving in so easily, but what could I do?

Violet must have given him a look because he closed his mouth and hung his head without saying another word.

Gunther reached up to adjust his monocle. "Okay, please," he said and then he was looking at me again with those shiny eyes and that nasty smile that haunted me every night. "And it is great that you chose to stay, please."

I felt Klaus' hand tighten and he stepped even closer to me as if by being near me would protect me from Gunther. I took a step closer to him too. Although, I knew it would change nothing. But for the moment, I could pretend that being near him would mean I was safe. I tightened my grip on his hand too so I could get the most out of the small amount of time we had left.

"It's so much nicer when no one is arguing," Jerome said, "Come on, children, let's go to dinner. Esmé, Gunther, and Jane, of course, have to stay to plan the auction, so they'll need the place to themselves. Have fun, Jane, and we'll the Baudelaires will be back to see you before you know it."

"Well, come on, Gunther, let me show you around my glorious apartment," Esmé said.

"See you later, please," Gunther said, giving the Baudelaires a tiny wave. Esmé was starting down the hallway followed by Gunther. She noticed I remained where I was.

"Coming, Jane?" Esmé called.

"I'll be there in a second," I said. Dread consumed me and I wasn't sure how I was going to say what I needed to tell the Baudelaires.

"Don't take too long, please," Gunther said.

"When you're done with _them_," Esmé said, obviously still angry with the Baudelaires, "we'll meet you in the living room down here."

I nodded stiffly and they started down the hall. Looking back at the Baudelaires and Jerome, I realized this might be the last time I saw either of them.

"Thank you for not arguing with Esmé any longer," Jerome said.

"Jerome?" I said.

"Yes, Jane?" Jerome asked.

"Do you think I could have a second with Violet, Klaus, and Sunny?" I asked.

"Of course," Jerome said, "I'll wait at the top of the stairs." He exited the penthouse, leaving the four of us alone.

We were silent until Klaus broke it.

"What are we going to do?" he asked, quietly, but with urgency.

"I don't know," Violet said, "but if Jane doesn't stay, Esmé will be upset and might make us guardianless again."

"Golapa!" Sunny shrieked, which meant, "And then Gunther could convince Esmé to hand us over to him like he usually does."

"Well, at least we would be together," Klaus said.

"No!" I said and then, remembered to lower my voice. I was surprised he would think of that. I knew he just didn't want me going alone if Gunther somehow got me, but I knew the Baudelaires being caught too would be far worse. "He only needs one of you to get your fortune. If we all get caught, he'll only spare one of you. I know because he told me that. And I'm not about to lose you like that."

"But what about you, Jane?" Violet asked.

"You can't be alone with him," Klaus said, "If you stay here with Esmé and Gunther, he might…"

"I know," I said, "but there's no other choice. Besides, Esmé is here and Gunther wouldn't dare try anything in front of her." I tried to find comfort in that fact, but…I couldn't shake off my feeling of dread. Tears welled in my eyes, but I pinched myself so I wouldn't cry in front of them. They couldn't see my despair, or they wouldn't let me go. And I had to be strong for them. "But," I continued when their worried looks didn't fade, "if something does happen to me—and nothing will—I won't be alone. In fact, if Gunther somehow gets me…he'll take me to where he's keeping the Quagmires and then, maybe I could help them escape. Or, I could at least help them stay out of harms way."

That didn't seem to make them feel any better.

"I have to go," I said when none of them spoke, "And there's nothing we can do about it. It's like that song I sang the other day." I looked at Klaus now. "There's nothing we can do but be strong and hope that things will turn around for the better. Maybe it is for the best since I'll be with the Quagmires and there will be other means of help I can find." I winked at Klaus hoping he understood I was talking about Monty Kensicle.

I waited for a response and when I heard nothing, I figured they were still mad at me. At least I knew they would be somewhat safe, though. So I started to head down the hallway.

"Wait."

He had taken a step closer to me and when I spun to look, I wasn't expecting his face to be so close. It took me off guard. And then, Klaus reached out and gave me a hug.

"You can't go without saying goodbye," Klaus said.

Violet gave me a hug too and then Sunny wrapped her tiny arms around my legs before she stretched up and gently bit my right hand.

"Don't worry," I told them, "maybe it's goodbye now, but that doesn't mean it's forever…right?"

It seemed like forever before Klaus spoke.

"O-of course," he said, "We'll see each other again."

"And let's hope the next time, I'll have the Quagmires with me," I added.

We were silent and it stretched out for what seemed like ages. We had all come to the conclusion that we had to part ways, but none of us could find the courage to move.

"Jane," Klaus said, suddenly, taking my hand in his, "in case we don't see each other again, there's something I want to tell you."

"Stop," I said, "we're going to see each other again."

"But what if something happens to one of us?" he said, "You, particularly?"

"I'll be fine as long as my fortune is still up for grabs," I said, "and you'll be okay as long as you stay out of Olaf's clutches. And you will, because you're good at that. Much better than I am."

"But—"

"Jane?" Esmé's voice rang out from one of the rooms, probably the living room. "Are you coming, Jane?"

"Just a second," I called back.

"Hurry up!" she hollered, "It's not as if you're never going to see them again."

I heard chuckles follow Esmé's comment and knew they were coming from Gunther.

I turned back to Klaus who was still clutching my hand. "I don't have time," I said, "I have to go. I'm sorry. . ."

"Goodbye, Jane," Violet said.

"Bye," Sunny managed and I saw tears in her dark eyes.

"Bye," I choked out, a lump forming in the back of my throat.

I noticed Klaus still struggling with the urge to tell me. "Just think," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You'll always have a reason to come and find me again."

Before Klaus could protest, Violet took his arm and the Baudelaires sadly walked to the front door. Klaus glanced back at me just as he was about to exit. Violet and Sunny were ahead of him.

"Keep holding on," I mouthed to him and after a moment he left too.

They were gone. I began to head down the hallway to the nearest living room when my gaze flickered to the photos still on the table. The nice picture of the four of us seemed like it had been taken ages ago, yet only a few minutes had gone by. Time could move so quickly sometimes that it almost scared me. To think, just a few minutes ago, we were happy. Our only worries were about the Quagmires and though, we worried about Count Olaf returning, none of us thought it would be so soon. I wished there were someway I could go back in time and warn myself to be more careful. But I knew, even if I could go back to those last few moments, nothing would have changed. Gunther still would've shown up at the front door to the Squalor's penthouse and I'd still be in this same, awful situation.

I sighed and put one of the photos of us in the pocket of my pinstripe suit. Maybe I couldn't bring the Baudelaires with me, but this photo could be enough.

"Jane?" Esmé's voice called from one of the rooms.

"Coming," I said, hoping she was close enough to hear me. I was in no mood to raise my voice.

I followed Esmé's voice into the living room. Gunther and Esmé were sitting on the long sofa that was positioned against the far wall of the room, talking avidly about something. The shades were gone from the windows that lined one of the walls, so although it was the evening, the sun's rays streamed through. They cast a pinkish, orangey glow on the furniture.

"Hello, Jane," Esmé said when I entered, "Could you go into the kitchen and get us some aqueous martinis?"

"Oh, yes, please," Gunther said, "That would be smashing, please, _little_ Jane." His eyes shone brightly as he looked at me as if I were a tiny little ant he wanted to squish. I shivered.

"O-okay," I stuttered. I was a little glad for a chance to escape for a little bit.

I moved to the first kitchen I found along the hallway. In the kitchen, I rummaged around until I found the bowl of olives, the pitcher of cold water, and three fancy glasses. I fit everything on an in wooden tray. But this small distraction only made time for my fear to worsen. I made my way back to the living room, but lingered outside so I could eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Lot #20, lot #48…In Auction…" It was hard to hear much except little things. I paid close attention and tried to figure out what Lot #48 or Lot #20 could mean other than an item for sale at the auction.

"Jane, where are you with our martinis?" Esmé called suddenly.

"I'm coming," I mumbled and took a step into the room. I set the tray down on the table. "Here you go."

Esmé smiled. "Do you see how good this little orphan is?" She appraised as I began making the martinis, "She's definitely the innest out of all the orphans. All she needs is to be taught by someone as glamorous as me."

"It too bad we can't sell her, please, at the In Auction, please," Gunther said, jokingly, but he stared at me with gleaming eyes that said he wasn't joking at all. I handed them the martinis. I instantly thought that I should've poisoned Gunther's drink, but knew it would only make me as bad as he is. "We make lots of money, please."

"That's illegal," I said, firmly and turned to Gunther so I could give him an angry glare.

Esmé laughed. "Oh, Jane, Gunther was only joking," she said, "We wouldn't sell a child in an auction, especially not you. Now, come sit."

I did as Esmé told me and went to sit in the armchair beside the sofa.

"No, no," Esmé said, "you won't be able to see anything from over there. Come here."

She scooted over so there was a gap between Gunther and her. She waited for me to sit.

"I don't have all day, Jane," Esmé said and reached over to take my hand. She pulled me over to the sofa and I reluctantly sat in the spot in between them. I sat so I was closer to Esmé than Gunther who was staring at me, hungrily as if I were a cookie in a cookie jar.

They started discussing more of the items like Lot #14, an enormous globe, and Lot #25, a valuable piano. There were more mentioned like a scarlet red, fish statue which was Lot #48. I wasn't really listening though. Gunther's gaze was very unnerving and after awhile I couldn't take it anymore.

"I-I have to go," I managed as I started to get up.

Esmé caught my arm.

"No, you don't," she said, "you wouldn't leave without being excused, would you? That is very rude and definitely out."

"Yes, please," Gunther said.

As I looked behind me I noticed both of them had set their glasses down on the table. There didn't appear to be any coasters nearby. I stared at a droplet of water slowly sliding down the glass and onto the fancy wooden table.

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><p><strong>***Flashback***<strong>

Monty Kensicle unfurled the newspaper he was holding and started to sit down on an oddly, green bench, when something caught his eye. He stiffened and moved away from the bench, almost knocking into me as he did.

"What's the matter?" I asked, curiously.

Monty looked around him, as if someone were watching. There was nothing there, though. Some children were playing tag and a dog was racing to fetch a Frisbee a little distance away.

"Come over to the bench and I'll show you," Monty said. He put a hand on my back and guided me toward the armrest of the grassy green bench. He pointed to the armrest. "Look here."

I looked and saw a ring of some kind of liquid on the armrest. I gave Monty an odd glance.

"Are you one of those germaphobes or really neat people?" I asked, grinning. I was reminded of a character, Monica Geller, on one of my favorite television shows, called Friends. She was also a neat freak.

Monty gave me a small smile, but shook his head. "I'm neither of those things. This ring is the sign of a villain. Villainous people never use coasters under their drinks. It's one way for noble people such as ourselves to differentiate between the noble volunteers and the villains. If you ever encounter a ring like this, you should get away from it as soon as possible. You never know what dangers could be lurking nearby."

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><p>A wave of fear and realization hit me like a freight train. Did that mean Esmé Squalor was a villain? Was she working with Gunther? Did she know who he really was? Did she know where the Quagmires were being kept? But what if she was just a really careless person who didn't think to use a coaster. It seemed a little odd to define someone by whether they use a coaster under their drink or not. I've put a drink down without a coaster underneath plenty of times before but I'm not a bad person like Count Olaf…or Esmé.<p>

But it seems odd to me that Esmé of all people could be villainous. Maybe her attentiveness to fashion could make her a little ruthless sometimes but she'd also been so kind to me.

Esmé followed my gaze, as did Gunther. They seemed to understand why I'd suddenly gone pale.

"I have to use the restroom," I said. I was walking towards the door when I felt Esmé grab my shoulder to halt me.

"It can wait," she said.

Gunther's hand grasped my other shoulder and I began to feel like a rabbit trapped in a fox's den. All of my instincts screamed at me to run. But where could I go? I was in a seventy-one-bedroom penthouse that was either forty-eight or eighty-four stories tall and my only escape was the stairs that would take forever to climb down.

But my instincts were stronger than my reasoning so before I wasted any more time thinking about it, I started sprinting for the hallway. The good thing was that I wasn't too far away from the front door but the bad thing was that it was two adults versus a ten-year-old girl. And I could hear them chasing me, getting closer and closer. I wasn't sure how I was able to make it to the front door without them getting me, but maybe I was being powered more by adrenaline than anything else.

My hand grasped the brass doorknob and I opened it as quickly as I could, despite its obvious heaviness. But it seemed that Gunther and Esmé reached it just as I did because before I could step out, I felt a pair of hands grab me from behind.

"Let go of me!" I screamed. They laughed mockingly.

Now I was being dragged to the pair of elevator doors. Olaf, who's bony hands were the ones that grabbed me, tightened, as we got closer to where the elevators waited. It confused me that we were going this way. Weren't the elevators out of order?

Esmé stepped forward and pushed the button on one of the two elevators. It opened, revealing an empty shaft. I wasn't really afraid of heights but as I looked down the deep, dark shaft, I felt chills run up my spine at the thought of falling down there.

"All set," Esmé said, "Goodbye, orphan. Have a nice fall."

"No!" I shouted struggling as Olaf brought me closer to the shaft, "Don't! Please, don't throw me down there!"

"There will be worse things that will happen to you than being thrown down an elevator shaft," Olaf said. "Maybe you should have been a good orphan and not escaped from my clutches." At that, Olaf half-pushed, half-threw me into the dark shaft.

I screamed, and knew my death would come at any moment. At least it would be fast. All I could see was darkness and could feel nothing below me but the air whooshing past me. Then I hit something that felt net-like before I felt nothing again.

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	5. Trapped

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: Trapped<strong>

A pair of hands woke me, then, roughly scooped me up and began to carry me somewhere. That was all I was aware of at the moment and other than those details, I was still trying to make sense of where I was. Although, my eyes were now open, all I could see around me was…well nothing…I couldn't see anything because it was pitch black. If I wasn't moving at the moment, I might've assumed I died. The only sign that I wasn't still asleep was the sound of footsteps belonging to the person carrying me. The person's hands were bony and even though it was dark, I could tell whoever it was had very, pale skin, long, yellow fingernails, and didn't bathe much. That observation, made me stiffen and I was brought back to reality just as I met a pair of shiny, shiny eyes.

Count Olaf grinned wickedly, reminding me of the events that led up to this moment. I remembered him showing up as Gunther, the auctioneer, and Esmé telling me to stay to help them with the In Auction. I recall seeing the rings on the coffee table and seeing Esmé for who she really was. A liar, and a traitor. And then, I remember racing for the door only to be caught and thrown into that elevator shaft. I shuddered. I remember falling into a net, though, which must have stopped me from plummeting to my death.

I realize I must be at the bottom now, and I was being brought to some unfamiliar location. I wondered briefly how Olaf managed to climb halfway up an elevator shaft to get me, but knowing him for as long as I have, I understood that Olaf would do anything to get what he wants and it was best not to ask. The one question I had was what could possibly be at the bottom of this shaft that I was being brought to. Maybe he has a secret lair? What if it's some kind of torture chamber?

"Where are you taking me?" I managed.

"Well, if you must know," Count Olaf said in his raspy voice. He was still in his disguise but I'm guessing he decided it was safe enough to talk normally, which meant that we were alone. The thought scared me. "I'll be taking you to where I hid the twins, but first, we're going to have a little talk."

I tried to squirm my way out of his grasp as I said, "Put me down, I don't need to be carried."

"If that's what you want," he said, simply, shrugging as he did. I stared at him, confused. Before I realized what was happening, I was falling onto a cold, stone floor. The floor was slightly damp and wreaked of mold and dust. I had put my arms out to brace my fall and received scrapes on my palms and knees.

I glanced up and found Olaf gazing at me with that same livid expression I'd received when I escaped his clutches at Prufrock Prep.

"Now that we have that settled," Olaf said, "let's talk." He grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me to my feet.

"What's there to talk about?" I asked.

"There are lots of things to talk about," Olaf growled and leaned closer so I could smell his repulsive breath. "Such as the fact that you were the reason why my plans to snatch the Baudelaire fortune failed last time by helping them study for their exams. And then, you took off your wig in front of that carrot-headed girl and Mr. Poe. Not to mention how you ran off with the Baudelaire brats." His grip on the back of my shirt tightened, making me take a step back only to be yanked forward again. "Lucky that I managed to contact Esmé Squalor so she would adopt you orphans and I'd have you exactly where I wanted. You, of course, were instantly fooled. For people who read as much as you do, you're very naïve."

"But Esmé can't be a villain," I said. I was having trouble comprehending that someone I had begun to look up to and really like, actually betrayed me like that.

"Of course she can," Olaf said, scornfully, "She is, and you were stupid enough to believe her to be anything but that. I knew if she started saying nice things to you and treating you like a good guardian should, particularly around you, would make you trust her. I was her acting teacher for quite some time, after all. But she clearly didn't have to try to hard because you, an orphan who has lost everything, is still naïve enough to trust the wrong people. You should know by now in your puny little life that the most people will do for you is make you suffer. Why else would your parents have abandoned you so many years ago?"

At that, I clenched my fists tightly. "Maybe you're right about Esmé and my parents…but there are people who do care about me. The Baudelaires care about me and that's all that matters to me." Despite the fact that his face was turning red with anger, I stayed where I was. "And I won't be afraid to escape again if I get the chance," I continued, though my voice shook, "I-I'm not afraid of you." Then, I spit in his face.

"Why, you little brat," he sneered and his eyes shone so brightly that even in the darkness, I could see them clearly.

I felt his hand grasp a chunk of my hair, pulling it so tightly that I thought he might rip it out. And then he lifted his right hand and struck me across the face. The pain, made me bite down on my tongue hard until I tasted blood. A second hadn't gone by before his hand rose again for another blow. The sting made me want to clutch my cheek, but Olaf's scraggly hands had my face in a tight hold.

"Did you actually think you would get away with foiling my plans?" Olaf roared, even though his face was now inches from mine. "Was my warning not clear enough for you to understand not to escape? Did you not expect me to find you? Did you think I would let you down easy after everything you did?" I stumbled back and then, another blow to the same cheek knocked me to the ground again.

I felt sharp blows on my arms and legs as Count Olaf repeatedly kicked me. One hit my face, clouding the vision in one of my eyes and cutting my lip. I kept trying to get up, to get away, but everytime I got to my feet, I was shoved back down. I finally managed to raise my hands to shield my face.

"Stop!" I gasped, as I felt a shooting pain in my ribs.

At last, he halted, but grabbed the back of my shirt. I was forced upright so his face was only inches from mine again and I could smell his awful breath.

"Consider yourself lucky, orphan," he hissed, "there are far worse things that I could do to you. We'll let this be a warning to never undermine me like that ever again."

I was pulled to my feet again before I had time to catch my breath and he began shoving me down the hallway. I winced with every step. My left eye was swollen shut and throbbed painfully. I tried not to let Olaf see that I was in pain, though, because I knew it would only make things worse. Besides, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. As we moved farther down the hallway, I realized we were heading toward some kind of cage or jail cell. And it wasn't empty.

A boy with dark hair and matching eyes sat on a small bench inside the cage, staring blankly at his feet. On the floor beside him was a girl who looked nearly identical despite the obvious differences. Her hair fell just below her chin and she was looking away into the darkness somewhere. But she had a faraway expression that told me she was seeing more than just a wall. I could tell just by looking at their hollow cheekbones and frightened expressions that they've been living a nightmare.

The Quagmire triplets looked up at us and seemed to tense as soon as they caught sight of Count Olaf. But when they saw that I was with him, they looked even more troubled and I knew they were worried that the Baudelaires had been caught too.

Count Olaf paid the twins little attention as he unlocked the cage. "Take a good look at this orphan," Count Olaf sneered to the twins before he shoved me inside roughly so I fell to the ground again. "This is how you'll turn out if you try anything that might foil my plans." He began to lock the door with a small, silver key. "And let's not forget about _our_ plans for the future. Oh, yes, in just a week I'll be shoving you little twerps into items to be sold at that In Auction, so I can then whisk you out of the city without the cops knowing. Of course, the Baudelaires will join you once we're through and once we're far, far away in a place where no one can find us, I'll get your fortunes. Then, when I have no other use for you, you'll finally get to go say hello to your parents again." He glanced at me. "You'll be the first one to go."

"That will never happen," I said, firmly, "you'll never get the Baudelaires or their fortune. Not in a million years."

"We'll see about that," Olaf scoffed, "you pathetic little girl…just like…oh, never mind, I just realized I must get going. The Baudelaires' fortune is so close I can almost taste it!"

At that, he turned and disappeared down the dark corridor. His cruel laughter echoed off of the walls.

Duncan and Isadora were beside me now. They made a gesture like they wanted to help me up but, I waved them away.

They understood and let me be so I could allow a few tears to escape. I was thinking of what Olaf had said. How everyone in my life would always abandon me. I refused to believe it and tried to clear my mind from thinking that. But it was true and I couldn't lie about that. Everyone in my life had abandoned me. Carmelita Spats, all the girls at my first boarding school, Kate and Christina, even my better friends, Claire, Megan, and Nicole had abandoned me at some point in some way. Esmé Squalor, of course, Aunt Josephine, Uncle Monty, and many of our previous guardians abandoned me…even my own parents. If it weren't for them, I probably wouldn't be in this mess. I might actually have friends other than the Baudelaires and I would never have encountered Count Olaf. Some of those people were supposed to protect me, yet they all left me in the dust.

But I guess it was partly my fault for being so stupid. Olaf was right; I am a pathetic little girl. I just trust people without really knowing them. Maybe if I were more careful, I would save myself a lot of trouble. And maybe Klaus was right about Monty Kensicle and he was just a big phony too? As for the Baudelaires and the Quagmires, well…I trusted them, of course, and I hoped I was right to. But if for some reason they decided to abandon me as well, it wasn't like I was connected to them in some way. I was alone. Just like I've always been. And it was all so confusing and frustrating to have to deal with all by myself. Who could I trust?

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	6. Secrets and Regrets

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: Secrets and Regrets<strong>

_**Jane Rumary**_

For a while, I sat staring at the wall, a little upset with my surroundings. The cage wasn't very big and knowing I would be stuck in here for probably a few days was unnerving. I didn't move from the floor, though. I must have been there for quite sometime because soon Isadora was scooting over to me.

"Are you okay?" Isadora asked.

I nodded, weakly.

"What about the Baudelaires?" Duncan asked, leaving his spot on the bench to come sit with us, "How are they?"

"They're doing okay," I said, "well, worse now that they're living with one of Olaf's associates."

"Esmé Squalor," Isadora said, bitterly. I nodded.

"What happened?" Duncan asked, "How were you caught?"

I explained to them about Esmé and the In Auction. I told them everything that had happened during the 'meeting' with Gunther, the auctioneer, and Esmé.

"I'm sorry," Duncan whispered.

I shook my head, indicating that I was okay. They've probably been through a lot worse than I have, since I last saw them.

"Don't be sorry," I replied, "I should be sorry. I didn't save you from Count Olaf's clutches."

"It's not your fault," Isadora said, "we were the ones who offered to put our lives on the line for you four. Mostly because we knew you and the Baudelaires would've done the same thing for us. You were just luckier than us. Besides, we should be thanking you."

I gave them a confused look. "Why?"

"For giving us Monty Kensicle's address and letting us know about the ladder you built," Duncan said, "we did what you said and went to look for him. When we got to his house, well…"

"The address didn't lead us to his house," Isadora cut in, "we were brought to a house that had been neglected for what must have been years. He found us there and we explained what happened. He didn't believe us at first, but then we told him you sent us."

"I don't know what we would've done without him," Duncan added, "we told him what we know and he told us things that he knows too. Actually, we found out a little about V.F.D and it just might help us bring Olaf to justice if we ever get the chance."

"Really, like what?" I asked, curiously.

"Well," Isadora reached into the pocket of her wool sweater and she took out her black notebook. She flipped open to a page, "we know that it's some kind of organization where they try to put out fires. And V.F.D stands for Volunteer Fire Department."

"A long time ago," Duncan continued, reading a page from his dark green notebook. "There was a schism of some sort. That's how villains turned up. They wanted to start fires instead."

"Like Count Olaf," Isadora said, "Duncan and I suspect that he was one of the leaders. We also found out he's quite an arsonist. I'm sure you're already aware of that, but according to Monty Kensicle, it's one of his _many_ hobbies."

"It seems odd that he hasn't seemed to use fire to get what he wants, yet," I said, "at least not any fires that I know of."

"He might've and you just didn't know it," Duncan said.

"Monty Kensicle told us that Dr. Montgomery Montgomery's house had been burned down recently," Isadora explained. "The news article said it was an accident because it started inside, but we aren't so sure."

"And that boarding school you stayed at before Prufrock Prep was destroyed in the same way," Duncan said, "the thing is, we can't tell if it was Olaf or someone else."

"Olaf has been too busy trying to get you and the Baudelaires, though," Isadora added, "Do you think he would have had time to commit other crimes too?"

"If it's to destroy evidence then maybe," I said.

"You're right," Duncan agreed, "But what will we do if all the evidence is destroyed?"

"We'll make our own evidence," I said, feeling an idea coming, "Besides, he can't destroy everything. Not if we're still alive."

"How do we _make_ our own evidence?" Isadora asked, curiously.

"Well, I have a notebook too," I said, pulling mine from my pocket, "Every night, I record everything that happens to me. I write down the date, describe locations and people in full detail, and such, so I'll be able to prove it."

"That's a good idea," Duncan said, "and we have Monty Kensicle writing those books, which is good…but what if that evidence is too…unreliable to help us."

"Maybe we need stronger evidence," Isadora said, "like…like…"

"Pictures?" I suggested, "Or videos?"

"That could work too," Duncan said, "or we could record conversations. When we were living in Olaf's house, he locked us in his tower and told us everything. If only we had had some kind of camera or recording device."

"But we didn't have any of those things," Isadora said, sadly, "and we still don't. How can we find a camera or a recorder at the bottom of an elevator shaft? Especially, when we're trapped in this cage?"

Duncan sighed. "You're right. But what else can we do?"

"Maybe if we were at Olaf's house, it would be a lot easier," I muttered. I absentmindedly looked down at my legs, examining the cuts, scrapes, and bruises. My right knee was still bleeding. As I stared at the tiny beads gushing to form a bigger blob, I had an idea.

"DNA counts as evidence, right?" I asked.

"Of course," Duncan said, looking at me curiously, "what are you thinking?"

"Well, if this is the home of one of his associates, do you think he would burn this place down?" I asked.

"Probably not," Isadora said, "but there are other ways to destroy evidence."

"It would be difficult to destroy this shaft though without getting hurt," I said, "so…" I pressed my fingers against the blood on my knee and stood so I could smear it on the bars.

"Just because he's bigger than us doesn't mean we can't fight back," I continued as I repeated it on the bench, "it's not much, but it's a start. Later, if we're not rescued, or we don't escape, and we are taken out of this place, we can figure out where we can get a camera."

"What do we do until then?" Duncan asked.

I shrugged. "We should start filling our notebooks of information like we've already been doing. I'll keep writing journal entries and you can keep writing down any information we discover about Count Olaf's past or V.F.D."

"We already have some more information about his past," Isadora said, "about Esmé Squalor too. Apparently, Olaf convinced her to marry Jerome because he wanted control over this place."

"He told us this is some kind of tunnel," Duncan added, "and it leads to somewhere that he wouldn't tell us."

"Is that how he got you down here?" I asked, surprised. "You entered through the tunnel?"

"Well, I guess so," Duncan said, "Olaf had us stuffed into a crate so we couldn't tell where we were going. But I assume he entered the tunnels using a sewer drain, or a trap door. We didn't even know we were at the bottom of an elevator shaft until Olaf mentioned it to us."

"That sounds awful," I said, "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," Isadora said, "we just need to focus on getting ourselves out of this cage."

"You're right," I said, "we have to warn the Baudelaires before…" I trailed off, not needing to finish my sentence.

"Except there's no way out of this cage," Duncan said, "Olaf made sure the bars were sturdy with no holes large enough to escape. And look at that lock. It would be pretty hard to unlock it from the inside. Especially without a key."

"Then, we need to get the key," I said, "when Olaf returns…if he does anytime soon we can try to snatch it without him knowing."

"How can we do it behind this cage?" Duncan asked.

"Doesn't he ever feed you?" I asked, "He must send an associate down here to check on you and make sure you're not dead or close to it."

"Every day someone stops by," Duncan said, "but we only receive one slice of bread and a pitcher of water. Olaf only needs one of us to get our fortune so he feels he only needs enough for one person. So we've been saving them." He reached into his pockets, pulling out some messy slices of bread. Isadora gestured to her pockets too and I knew she had stuck some in there too. It wasn't until they mentioned it that I realized, how thinner they looked compared to the last time I saw them. Isadora looked like she was healthier, though, there wasn't too much of a difference. "You won't have to worry, though. He'll definitely make sure you're fed, since you don't have any siblings."

"Well, I'll donate some of my bread to the savings," I offered, "anyways, maybe the next time Olaf's associate comes, we can maybe make sure the door isn't properly closed or something. Then, we could sneak away somehow."

"As long as it includes all of us getting out of here," Isadora said, "we don't want any of us left behind."

"It's risky," Duncan said, "but it might work."

At that, we were silent. I was busy trying to think of something else. I knew it was bad trying to think of a way to escape when I was just caught and punished for doing it, but it wasn't really for my benefit. I really just wanted to help the Quagmires get out of here like I promised the Baudelaires I would. They had a better chance of not getting caught then I did.

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><p><em><strong>Klaus Baudelaire<strong>_

All night during dinner, my mind was only on one thing—one person to be exact. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Jane was alone in the penthouse with Gunther. The only relief I felt was that Esmé Squalor would be with them and hopefully, she would protect Jane. But I couldn't be sure. I shuddered as I imagined Gunther snatching Jane and sneaking her away to some unknown location to possibly lock her away.

I regret leaving her to go to Café Salmonella. I should have refused to leave her side. I should've tried harder to warn Esmé about Gunther being an imposter. Even if it meant I would get kicked out, I couldn't have Jane taken away from me again.

Just like last time, she'd be locked away in Olaf's house, unable to be reached. My only hope was that she would be with the Quagmires. I trusted them to keep her safe and I knew Jane would do everything to protect them. Though, sometimes the fact that she tried her best to protect her friends, made her more likely to get herself hurt.

When Jerome finally took us back to 667 Dark Avenue, I was so worried I barely managed a thank you to him for taking us to dinner. Violet and Sunny could tell I was worried and made attempts to comfort me by patting my hand or giving me sympathetic looks.

The doorman wasn't helpful at all. He kept telling us we weren't allowed to go up.

"Mrs. Squalor strictly told me not to let anyone up to the penthouse apartment until the guest leaves the building," he told us.

I knitted my eyebrows together. "He's still there?" My heart rose as I thought that maybe I wasn't too late to save her. I looked at Violet and Sunny who wore the same hopeful expression.

"I don't want to argue," Jerome said, "but perhaps he's on his way down. The stairs do take a while to climb, unless you use the banister. So it might be okay to go up."

"I didn't think of that," the doorman said. He scratched his chin with his sleeve. I wondered why he didn't use his hands. "All right, I guess you can head up. Maybe you'll run into him on the stairs."

"I hope so," I muttered. If he was attempting to kidnap Jane, perhaps we could catch him in the act. I wasted no time and hurried inside the lobby to find that it had been changed while we were out. The walls were painted blue, the floor was soft under my feet and I noticed it was covered in sand. A few seashells were scattered in the corner.

Maybe the scenery change had worked to Gunther's disadvantage somehow.

"Ocean decorating is in," I heard the doorman say, but I too immersed in my thoughts of Jane to listen any further.

Though, I was listening when I heard Jerome say, "There will probably be some ocean decorations for sale at the In Auction." We were reaching the beginning of the stairway now, and I had to resist the urge to start running up the stairs. I had to keep reminding myself that if Gunther was kidnapping Jane at the moment, his only use of escape were the stairs and we would catch him if he did. Yet, I felt uneasiness in the pit of my stomach. "Maybe you should stop by and purchase something for the lobby."

"Maybe I will," the doorman said, looking at my siblings and I with a strange expression. Something about it only increased my fears. "Maybe I will, maybe I will. Have a good evening, folks." For some reason I felt a strong surge of hatred toward this man. I never liked him from the first day we saw him standing at the doors to the apartment building. Something about the way he always concealed his hands behind his sleeves and some of the things he said made me suspicious. I knew by now, we should be careful of whom we trusted and he was someone I'll start keeping an eye on.

We began to climb the stairs. I noticed I was speeding up, as we got closer, and closer. I looked around me carefully. I studied every person who passed by and closely watched the front doors of every apartment. I even tried to listen in to the other apartments in case he was hiding inside.

As we climbed higher, we all grew tired. Jerome started to carry Sunny and it seemed she would doze off soon. Violet looked just as tired. I was tired too, but I tried my hardest to be as alert as possible. There was still a chance; Jane could still be up there. If only I could get there faster, than I could really make sure she was safe. Then, everything would be all right and we could figure out what to do about Gunther later. And I could tell her what I've been trying to tell her for a while now.

It seems that everytime I get the chance, I'm either too nervous or something gets in the way. But I had to tell her. If she really was okay, I made a promise to myself, that I would confess, even if she doesn't feel the same way. She needs to know.

Finally, we reached the top of the stairs. Jerome gave Sunny to Violet who was leaning against the elevators. I walked over and leaned against the door with a button going up and one going down. I furrowed my eyebrows as I stared at the buttons. Why would anyone need to go up when we were already on the top floor? I had the sudden urge to push it to see what would happen. But I wasn't sure it would work since they were out. I wondered briefly, if the elevator car was still there, or if it had been removed. I made a mental note to ask Violet how elevators work and if maybe it could help us find the Quagmires, and perhaps Jane too, but I didn't want to think about that possibility.

"Are you coming, Klaus?" Jerome called.

I jumped, startled. Violet and Sunny were heading inside. "Oh, yeah…" I muttered.

After a beat, I hurried through the door, hoping to see Jane.

"Jane?" I called as soon as I stepped over the threshold. "Jane?"

Esmé entered the front room, holding a nearly empty glass of an aqueous martini. I had a very strong feeling that something was very wrong at the sight of her.

"Where's Gunther?" Jerome asked, "Is he still here?"

Esmé shook her head. "He left already," she said.

"That's odd," Jerome said, "the doorman told us he was still up here."

"Well, he's wrong," Esmé said, "he left a while ago. I saw him leave through the front door."

"Where's Jane?" I asked, urgently, "Is she here?"

Esmé smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Jane," she said, "oh, she was such a big help. I'm so happy she stayed. Gunther adored her and she liked him just as much. So much that Jane begged me to let her stay with Gunther for a few days until the In Auction. I agreed, of course, how could I ever say no to that sweet little face. We spent the last few minutes gathering up what belongings she would need for her stay and then, off she went."

The last inch of hope I had faded and I wanted to yell at Esmé. "So you just let her go?" I said, angrily, "You let a complete stranger take her?"

Esmé looked offended. "He's not a complete stranger," she said, "Gunther is the innest auctioneer in the world. And it's just until the In Auction."

"When are you going to get it?" I yelled, "He's not an auctioneer! His name isn't Gunther! He's Count Olaf and you just helped him kidnap Jane!"

"My brother's right," Violet said.

Esmé glared angrily at us. "Not this nonsense again," she said, "Jerome, I think it's time for them to go to bed."

"But, Esmé," Jerome said, "maybe Klaus does have a point. I wish you wouldn't have done that or at least let myself and the Baudelaire children know about it."

"I don't want to hear it," Esmé said, "put the kids to bed right now."

Jerome sighed. "I'm sorry, Esmé," he said, "I didn't mean to start an argument. Well, come on, children. You probably should go to bed, it's late and you should rest."

"But—" I started.

"Come on, Klaus," Violet said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "we are tired. You don't have to tuck us in tonight, we'll be fine by ourselves."

"Of course," Jerome said, "well, goodnight, children."

"Sweet dreams," Esmé said, a sweet smile appearing on her face, "I know Jane will be sleeping well." Then, she turned to head back down the hallway. "Come on, Jerome," she called over her shoulder, "I want to show you some of the items that are for sale at the In Auction this year. The catalog will be put in the library afterwards."

"Coming, dear," Jerome said, before giving us a sweet smile. "Don't worry, children, you'll get to see your friend again."

He followed after Esmé and we were alone.

"I'm sorry, Klaus," Violet whispered, "we're upset too."

"It's my fault she's gone," I muttered, "I didn't—"

"There was nothing any of us could've done," Violet said, "but remember what Jane told us. To stay strong and we have to. We'll figure out where Gunther is keeping her and get her out. The Quagmires too."

I was silent and averted my eyes. I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Sitting on the small table in the front room were the photos that had been taken earlier. Well, all of them except for the photos of Jane. All three of them had been taken as well as one of the two nice pictures taken of us four.

It struck me as odd that they were missing and I wondered who could've taken them and why. I grabbed the last photo with our entire group, stuffing it into my pocket. It was all I had left of her now.

I sighed and followed my siblings, who were heading to their rooms. But to get to my room, I had to pass by Jane's. I stood at the door for a second, closing my eyes. I was so tired that I felt like I was dreaming. And maybe I was.

Maybe this was all just some horrible dream that would soon end. Count Olaf didn't really show up disguised as Gunther, and he didn't kidnap Jane. It was all a dream, and soon enough, Jane will come running out into the hall with a big smile on her face.

I opened my eyes again, but all I saw was a dark, empty room. Jane was gone and it was my entire fault. I took one last look at Jane's bedroom, which still kind of smelled like her, before I headed to my room. I passed the Squalor's piano as I went and I couldn't believe that just a few hours ago, Jane was sitting on the bench, her fingers expertly running over the keys. And even as I stood in front of my room, I was reminded of how silly she had looked, standing there with that pinstripe suit on. It brought a smile to my lips that quickly faded when I was brought back to reality.

I got ready for bed and even when I was under the covers with the lights off, I knew I wouldn't be able to get any sleep. I was still so worried about Jane.

What confused me the most was how Gunther left with Jane, unnoticed. But how? Jane wouldn't have gone down without a fight.

Also, I knew no matter how I looked at it, I was to blame. Why couldn't I have climbed the stairs faster? Why did I leave Jane when I knew I would risk losing her? How could I do that to her? After everything she's done for me? And why didn't I make Gunther leave as soon as we'd seen him appear at the door? Instead, I had stood there, dumbfounded. I was so angry with myself for letting her go again, even though I had swore to myself to never let that happen. I failed her when she needed me and just like the first time she was taken away from me. I lost her, and who knew if I'd ever get her back.

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><p><strong>Review!<strong>

**I want to try to update again by the same time tomorrow night! So review, review!**


	7. The Ersatz Elevator

**Hey everyone! So i did what i promised and managed to upload a new chapter! With both Jane and Klaus's perspective**

**Enjoy and don't forget to review! :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven: The Ersatz Elevator<strong>

_**Jane Rumary**_

So the Quagmires and I waited. We figured it was nighttime so we allowed ourselves to try and sleep. They had been taking turns sleeping on the bench and tonight they let me sleep on it. I protested, but they insisted since it was my first night here. So I lied back against the bench and found myself unable to close my eyes. It wouldn't make a difference, though. It was so dark down here that sometimes I forgot my eyes were still wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling. I was too anxious, and kind of scared to sleep. I never liked the dark and I had too many things to think about.

The Baudelaires for one thing; it worried me that they weren't safe anymore. Now that Esmé proved to be untrustworthy. Not to mention how, in a few days, we were going to be sold at the In Auction and possibly snuck out of town. I knew that as soon as Olaf got us somewhere isolated like that island, there would be little chance of escaping. He'd have less time on his hands and easily keep tabs on us all. Would he decide to only keep one Baudelaire and one Quagmire alive so he could kill the others to keep himself amused? I knew nothing too bad would happen to me, at least not until I turned eighteen. It was such a long ways away.

I briefly wondered where I would be in my life when I finally turned eighteen. Will I be in Olaf's clutches still and getting ready to face my horrible end? Will I be out of his clutches and have already sent him to prison with the evidence I was hoping to gather? Will I be happy? Will I be with Klaus? Or with someone else? Only time would tell what my future would hold. And I knew if I wasn't careful, I could end up in a bad situation that could set myself up for a miserable end.

I was also anxious because I desperately needed to rescue the Quagmires. I just couldn't allow them to continue like this. They should be with the Baudelaires, possibly trying to figure out Gunther's latest scheme so they can stop him. And the Baudelaires will be able to find the answers they wanted to know about V.F.D., and how it may help us to stop Count Olaf's evil plans once and for all. I sighed. If only we weren't stuck in a cage at the bottom of this disgusting elevator shaft.

My head was beginning to ache from all this stress. Actually, everything ached. Some of my scrapes and cuts were beginning to scab, and I noticed some new bruises forming nearly everywhere. My eye was still swollen and I knew my lips were probably puffy. It was a further warning that whatever I did, I needed to be very careful about it. I didn't want the same thing happening to Duncan or Isadora. And I certainly would try not to let it happen to _me_ again.

I continued to stare at the ceiling. I wasn't sure when, but at some point, I drifted off into a light, somewhat peaceful sleep, though it was short lived because as soon as I closed my eyes I had another nightmare. This nightmare was a little different because of my circumstances.

In the dream, Olaf's associate was trying to stuff me into a red fish statue of some sort. I couldn't tell which one it was because he was wearing a large coat that covered his hands and a hat that was pulled down to conceal most of his face. He kind of reminded me of the doorman. Just as he managed to fit me in, I realized he didn't have hands. Instead he had two sharp hooks, which he was now waving in front of my face.

"_You'll be the first to go,"_ he said and I shuddered as his voice came out in a raspier tone. Suddenly, he changed and turned into Count Olaf and instead of two hooks, in one hand he was brandishing a scary looking knife.

This terrified me, and I knew I had to get out of this statue. I struggled to slip out, but it was like I was in quick sand. I was unable to move and every time I struggled, I sank deeper into the dark depths of the statue. Then, I realized that I was sinking more quickly until I was now falling, plummeting to the bottom of what now looked like an empty elevator shaft. Nothing but darkness surrounded me. I stared above me for something to hang onto, or some kind of light. That's when I saw Esmé standing tall and triumphant at the top. Her shrill laughter easily reached my ears. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound escaped. I woke up when I felt myself hit the ground with a _thud._ It startled me and I found myself sitting upright, with my eyes wide. I looked around me and realized I was no longer on the bench. I must have fallen off during my dream.

I tucked my knees up against my chest, trying to catch my breath. As I looked myself over and tried to fix my hair, I realized I was still wearing that ridiculous pinstripe suit. Apparently, even kidnap victims were expected to be fashionable. Thinking about fashion and pinstripe suits, I was reminded of those last few happy moments with the Baudelaires before everything changed. I dug around in my pocket and pulled out the picture I had allowed myself to take with me. The photo taken of with us four, attempting to look nice, despite the oversized suits. Seeing their bright, smiling faces cheered me up a bit. I hoped it wouldn't be the last happy memory I shared with them. I sighed and stuck the photo back in my pocket where my notebook was. I pulled it out, along with the pen I kept with me at all times. I had forgotten to add another entry. A lot has happened since I last wrote in it and I shouldn't waste what time I had.

The words came right away and soon I had filled two pages describing the events with the pinstripe suits. I couldn't help giggle to myself when I recalled how Klaus and I made those ridiculous poses to make Violet and Sunny laugh. By the time I finished writing it, I was chortling.

Isadora was looking my way from where she was lying on the ground. I covered my mouth with my hand to try and stifle my sudden joy. It caught both Quagmires' attention for soon they were reading my journal entry. They both chuckled at some parts and when they looked up they were grinning. After a few minutes, our laughter quieted and it was replaced by looks of sadness.

We didn't really say much more about it after that and I continued to write my journal entry for the night in silence. It was only when I started documenting when I was thrown into the elevator shaft that a tear slid down my nose and onto the page. I missed the Baudelaires terribly and I wondered how they were handling this. What had their reaction been when they entered to penthouse only to find me gone? What did Esmé tell them that would excuse my absence? Maybe Jerome is in cahoots with Olaf too, and they've been locked in the penthouse so Gunther can get them in the morning.

I sighed and my thoughts turned to after I fell. I felt my grip on my pen tighten as I recorded each word, and every stroke and kick I'd received. It was difficult to recall something I didn't want to think about, yet, it was one of the moments that stuck out the most to me. Finally, I wrote down the conversation I had with the Quagmires, which felt like quite a while ago. It brought me back to my situation at the moment and I felt my anxiety from before creeping back inside me.

Time passed very slowly as we waited in silence for someone to show. Duncan predicted it was morning. He said since it was night when I arrived, and quite a bit of time had passed since. Apparently, the food was usually delivered sometime in the afternoon, at least that's what Isadora thought.

Soon we heard a low noise, like footsteps in the distance.

"W-who does he usually send down here?" I asked, breaking our long silence. I realized I hadn't said much all night long so my voice was a little hoarse.

"That bald man with the long nose," Isadora said, sourly. She wrinkled her nose, "he's the worst of them."

"He hates me," I muttered, "but I think the worst one is the hook handed man." I shuddered. "I never want to have those hooks around my throat."

"I think the worst one is the one who looks like neither a man nor a woman," Duncan said, trembling. "Though, all of Olaf's associates are pretty awful."

As if on cue, a tall figure stepped out of the shadows. The Quagmires and I glanced at each other. It was too dark to see who it was from this far away, but as he came closer, we realized we forgot to mention who was the worst villain of them all.

"Hello, orphans," Olaf said, in his raspy voice, "I hope you were smart and got some sleep because your time for resting is running out. The items come tonight, and I'll be here to stuff you in. I want no trouble from any of you. Including you." He turned his gaze on me. "But I'm sure you've learned your lesson by now. And, of course, I brought you food, so eat up."

He took out a chunk of bread from a bag and tossed it in the cage, looking at us as if we were a bunch of hungry animals at a zoo. Duncan caught the chunk before it could land on the floor.

"See you tonight, orphans," he said, "and soon enough, there'll be three more prisoners joining you."

He started to leave, but I knew this was our last chance.

"You forgot something," I said, rising to my feet. That made Olaf stop to glare at me, which warned me to be careful of what I did or said.

"I did?" he asked, walking back over to us, "And what is that?"

I looked behind me at the bench, trying to come up with something.

"Water, of course," I said, "Duncan said you give us water too. Where is it?"

"You can have some later," Olaf said, "I don't have time to get you water."

"You had enough time to bring us bread," I pointed out, crossing my arms.

"Jane, it's okay," Isadora said, and I could hear the edge of concern in her voice.

"No it's not," I said, taking a step towards him, "and we don't even have much bread to 'eat up'. That's barely enough bread to feed three people."

Olaf's eyes darkened. "You _want_ water?" he said. I nodded, firmly. "And _more_ bread?"

I nodded again. Then, I found myself being yanked forward against the bars of the cage. Olaf brought his face inches from mine.

"I hope you realize soon that as long as you're in my clutches, you're a prisoner, Blondie," he hissed, "That means that if I decide to give you one slice of bread and no water, you will take it." He got so close to my face that it hurt to look him in the eye. "_Without_ complaining." He enunciated every syllable so I felt spit fly in my face. "And soon I'll be much more than just your captor."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Mr. Poe may have ripped up those guardianship papers, but I'm having them be replaced," Olaf said, his eyes shining brightly. "Esmé Squalor has agreed to sign you over to me and this time it will be _me_. It won't be signed to Gunther, I'll make sure of it."

I frowned, it was one thing that I had been kidnapped and now Olaf would end up as my legal guardian.

"That's right, orphan," Olaf continued when he saw my sour expression, "so I'd advise you to be extra nice to your new father."

I shuddered. "You'll never be my father," I said, "and you certainly won't ever replace my real one. It doesn't matter if this time they're yours."

His eyes grew shinier and I knew I'd done it. "We'll see about that, Blondie." Then, he let go of me and I stumbled back. I was hit with a wave of confusion. He hadn't tried to claw at my face again. I knew if Olaf wanted to hurt me, he would have to pull me out from the cage to do it. I thought it might give the Quagmires a chance to make a run for it. But that had failed when he let go of me.

Olaf laughed wickedly at my expression. "Well, don't get too comfortable," he said, addressing all of us, "I'll be back very, _very_ soon."

He left at swiftly as he came. We listened to his footsteps until they died away.

"Are you okay, Jane?" Duncan asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah," I sighed, disappointed that my plan had failed. I sunk to the ground. "I know it was stupid, but it was all I could do to try to get him to open the cage."

Isadora patted my arm. "Well, I'm glad he didn't hurt you again," she said, "That's terrible that he's having adoption papers filled out."

"Which is why we need to get out of this place," I said, angrily. Frustrated, I kicked one of the metal bars, which hurt, but I didn't really care at the moment.

"We will," Duncan said, trying to reassure me, "but maybe it isn't the right time to escape."

"And putting you in danger of getting hurt might not be the answer," Isadora added.

I nodded, silently and leaned my head back against the wall. Duncan stretched out his hand to offer me a piece of bread. I told him I wasn't hungry, and that he and Isadora could split it.

I closed my eyes and thought of the Baudelaires. I hoped they were okay and that they might be clever enough to figure out where we were hiding. I must have drifted off to sleep then, because I had a dream that the Baudelaires were climbing down the elevator shaft to come rescue us. When I opened my eyes, I had to blink hard to make sure I wasn't still dreaming. For standing a few inches away, clutching a rope ladder were the faces of the three Baudelaires, our only hope.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Klaus Baudelaire<strong>_

Despite the common saying that things usually got better in the morning, did not apply to how I felt when I saw the sun rising through the windows in my bedroom.

It was just in time, because I saw Sunny crawling into my room. Sunny put a tiny finger to her mouth and gestured for me to follow her.

I rolled out of bed and ran my hands through my messy hair. Then, Sunny led me to Violet's room where she was already sitting at her workbench with her hair tied up in a ribbon to keep it out of her eyes. From there we began discussing Gunther and his odd disappearance. And how he has Jane with him. We came to no conclusions.

"It's like one giant jigsaw puzzle," Violet muttered, speaking what was on my mind, "but there are pieces missing."

Jerome entered then, and offered to take us to town to get our pinstripe suits tailored. Except, our plans were cancelled when Esmé brought us the news that Parsley soda was now in. Jerome would have to go to the Beverage District to purchase some crates of it on Esmé's orders. She would be at a meeting with the King of Arizona today. They left and we were all alone in the penthouse. Though, I was scared that we weren't alone afterall. Maybe Gunther was lurking somewhere in the penthouse still, waiting for the perfect moment to come and snatch us.

We watched the door, carefully, but after a few moments of waiting, we decided it was safe to talk. For now, at least. So we came to the conclusion to search the entire penthouse for any sign of him. I hoped he wasn't here. It scared me to think that at any moment he might jump out and kidnap us. But it wasn't nearly as scary as the thought that Jane was still in his clutches.

Sunny had the idea to leave a trail of bread like in Hansel and Gretel. That way, we would know which rooms we already looked in. I thought about suggesting we split up, but if Olaf was really in the penthouse, I didn't want to be alone when he grabbed me.

So we searched everywhere and there wasn't any sign of him. We sighed in defeat and decided to come up with a new plan.

We would climb quietly down the stairs and listen to find out if he's hiding in one of the apartments. The journey down was especially long because we were tiptoeing so Gunther wouldn't hear us. So we had changed into sturdier clothing and brought along a snack.

We listened carefully to each apartment as we planned, whispering so we wouldn't be heard. I also decided it would be a good time to count the floors as we descended. When I got to room forty-eight, there were plenty of floors to go. I guessed it was eighty-four floors high. Except when we finally reached the bottom, having heard nothing suspicious in the apartments, I counted sixty-six floors. It struck me as odd since sixty-six is the average of those two numbers. So after searching sixty-six doors, there was no sign of Gunther.

I voiced this to Violet and Sunny as we sat at the bottom, Violet was spreading apple butter on some crackers. She passed one to me. I chewed and was reminded that Jane could be starving somewhere. If only I knew where. It frustrated me that I didn't even know where to find her this time.

The doorman came over to us then. "Hello, there," he said, with a smile on his face. I eyed him carefully because I still didn't trust him. "I was just going to put up this ocean decoration when I heard someone walking down the stairs."

"We just thought we'd have lunch here in the lobby," Violet said, covering for what we've really been up to, "and then hike back up."

"I'm sorry, but that means that you're not allowed back up to the penthouse," the doorman said, shrugging his shoulders in his massive coat. "You'll have to stay here in the lobby. After all, my instructions were very clear: You were not supposed to return to the Squalor penthouse until the guest left. I let you go up last night because Mr. Squalor said that your guest was probably on his way down, but he was wrong, because Gunther never showed up in the lobby."

"You mean Gunther still hasn't left the building?" Violet asked.

"Of course not," the doorman said, "I'm here all day and all night, and I haven't seen him leave. I promise you that Gunther never walked out of this door."

"Is there another door he could've gone out of?" I asked.

The doorman shook his head. "Nope," he said, "there's only one entrance and it's through those doors."

"Is there another floor above the penthouse?" I asked. I needed answers and the doorman was the only person who would know enough about this place to answer them.

"Of course not," he said again, looking surprised. "How could there be a floor above the highest floor in the building? And even if there were, how would anyone reach it?"

I knew the doorman would be no more use to us after that so I dropped it.

"Do you ever sleep?" Violet asked, quickly changing the subject.

"I drink lots of coffee," he answered.

"It just doesn't make any sense," Violet said.

"Sure it does," the doorman said. "Coffee contains caffeine, which is a chemical stimulant. Stimulants keep people awake."

"I didn't mean the part about the coffee," Violet explained, "I meant the part about Gunther. Esmé—that's Mrs. Squalor—is positive that he left the penthouse last night, while we were still at the restaurant. Not to mention, he took our friend, Jane with him. But you are equally positive that he didn't leave the building and neither did our friend, Jane. But you said there's no other way out of this building, so it's a problem that doesn't seem to have a solution."

"Every problem has a solution," the doorman said. "At least, that's what a close associate of mine says. Sometimes it just takes a long time to find the solution—even if it's right in front of your nose."

He smiled at us and walked over to the elevator doors. He opened a bottle of glue and I stared as he began to attach a starfish to the doors. Something about what he just said stuck. "_Every problem has a solution…even if it's right in front of your nose."_ It must have been for a long time that I sat with my eyes trained on those doors. _Right in front of my nose_…Gunther left the penthouse, I had to conclude, but he never left the building, at least not through the front door. So what wasn't I seeing?

As I stared at same spot, I began to realize what I was really staring at. It wasn't the doorman, and it wasn't the starfish either. I was looking past the decoration, at the elevator doors it was attached to. I thought about the two elevator doors in front of the penthouse. Why was there more than one pair of elevator doors exclusively at the top? And the elevator with the button going UP came to my mind. If it didn't go up, then, where on earth could it lead? I scanned my brain for any books I read about secret passageways. None of them mentioned anything behind an elevator door.

The doorman stepped away from the starfish, since the glue had finally dried. He noticed me staring and I notice him flash another smile before walking away. But my gaze didn't lift. I was thinking. Thinking and thinking and thinking.

I wondered again what elevators being out meant. I knew they were out of style, but if all those trees were chopped down when darkness was out, I was curious to know if the elevator had a similar fate. Could someone have removed it, leaving an empty shaft?

Even if it were gone…how could Gunther have escaped down it. if the penthouse was really sixty-six stories high, Gunther would never have survived that long drop and neither would Jane. So maybe the elevator car is still there and somehow Gunther got it to work. But the doorman would have seen him leave.

So my only suspicion was that elevator shaft being empty. Somehow, Gunther must have gotten to the bottom with Jane. But what could be at the bottom of that elevator shaft? I knew these were questions Violet was better at answering, but the Squalors appeared before I could voice my thoughts aloud.

I mumbled a hello to the Squalors and we began the climb up the stairs. Esmé did most of the talking for, which I was glad. I needed this time to think, to think hard.

We reached the top and I glanced at the pair of elevator doors. Again, I had the urge to push the UP button, but I stopped myself. I had to wait until we were alone before I could start examining things. I had a feeling this wasn't something to be brought to the Squalors' attention.

We ate a dinner of in food and washed it down with Parsley soda. I didn't eat much, I was thinking too hard to have much of an appetite. I was glad when we were done. I needed to get moving and ask Violet about elevators.

"Excuse me," I spoke up, knowing I couldn't waste anymore time. If Jane really was at the bottom of the elevator shaft with Gunther, I needed to move quickly. I was worried I'd be too late again. My sisters jumped a little bit in surprise. "I don't mean to interrupt, but my sisters and I are very tired. May we be excused to go to bed?"

"Of course," Jerome said, "you should get plenty of rest for the In Auction tomorrow. I'll take you to Veblen Hall at ten thirty sharp, so—"

"No, you won't," Esmé said. That was when I tuned out their conversation, until Jerome finally bid us goodnight. We took our plates into the nearest kitchen before heading to Violet's bedroom.

"Okay," Violet said, as soon as we found a good corner to discuss, "I can tell you've been thinking hard about something because you do that unique habit of yours where you don't pay any attention to your surroundings."

"Unique habits like that are called idiosyncrasies," I replied.

"Stiblo!" Sunny cried, which meant, "We can improve our vocabulary later—tell us what's on your mind!"

"I'm sorry, Sunny," I said, apologetically, "It's just that, I think I've figured out where Gunther might be hiding. Jane is probably with him. The thing is, I'm not positive. First, Violet, I need to ask you something. What do you know about elevators?"

"Elevators?" Violet said, "Quite a bit, actually. My friend Ben gave me some elevator blueprints for my birthday, and I studied them very closely. They were destroyed in the fire, of course, but I remember that an elevator is essentially a platform, surrounded by an enclosure, that moves along the vertical axis via an endlessly looped belt and a series of ropes. It's controlled by a push-button console that regulates an electromagnetic braking system so the transport sequence can be halted at any access point the passenger desires. In other words, it's a box that moves up or down, depending on where you want to go. But so what?"

"Freijip?" Sunny asked, which was her way of saying, "How can you think of elevators at a time like this?"

"Well, it was the doorman who really made me think about elevators," I said, "When he said that sometimes the solution is right under your nose? Well, he was gluing that wooden starfish to the elevator doors right when he said that."

"I noticed that too," Violet said, "It looked a little ugly."

"It did look ugly," I agreed, "But that's not what I mean. I got thinking about the elevator doors. Outside the doors to the penthouse are two pairs of elevator doors. But on every other floor, there's only one pair."

"That's true," Violet said, "and that's odd, too, now that I think of it. That means one elevator can only stop at the top floor. Weren't you asking the doorman if there was a floor above the penthouse?"

"Yes," I said, "that's exactly where I was going with this."

"So you think they're on the top floor?" Violet asked.

"No," I said, "not anymore."

"Yellivere!" Sunny said, which meant, "The second elevator is probably useless!"

"I don't think it's useless," I disagreed, "because I don't think the elevator is really there."

"Not really there?" Violet asked, "But that would just leave an empty elevator shaft!"

"Middow?" Sunny asked.

"An elevator shaft is the path an elevator uses to move up and down," Violet explained to Sunny. "It's sort of like a hallway, except it goes up and down, instead of side to side."

"And a hallway," I added, "could lead to a hiding place."

"Aha!" Sunny cried.

"Aha is right," I agreed, "Just think, if he used an empty elevator shaft instead of the stairs, no one would have seen him leave. And maybe he hasn't left, he could still be at the bottom somewhere, hiding. And maybe he's keeping Jane down there with him. My guess is that we only have so much time to go down there and at least rescue Jane. I'm not so sure if the Quagmires are down there too."

"But why is he hiding?" Violet asked. "Maybe he has Jane with him, but he's in disguise. There's no reason for him to hide too. So what could he be up to?"

"That's the part we still don't know," I admitted, "but I bet you the answers can be found behind those sliding doors. Let's take a look at what's behind that second pair of elevator doors. If we see the ropes and things you were describing, then we know it's a real elevator. But if we don't—"

"Then we know we're on the right track," Violet finished for me, "Let's go right this minute."

I pursed my lips. "Then we'll have to be very quiet. The Squalors are not going to let three children poke around an elevator shaft."

"It's worth the risk, if it helps us figure out Gunther's plan," Violet said.

"And if it'll help us rescue Jane," I added. She was my motivation to go down the shaft in the first place. It replaced my fear of possibly facing Gunther with a sense of determination.

We tiptoed toward the front door of the penthouse and carefully exited. Luckily, the hinges didn't squeak when we opened it. we managed to get there without making much noise. Still, being quiet, we tiptoed over to the two pairs of elevator doors.

I found the Up button next to the second pair of elevator doors. I pressed it, anxiously waiting as the doors slid open. We leaned carefully over the edge. All I saw was…nothing. The shaft was empty and very, very dark. I had been right, which excited me.

Violet and Sunny examined the elevator and came to the same conclusion as I did.

"I _knew_ it," I said, trying to keep my voice low, despite my sudden eagerness at the sight of it. "I_ knew_ the elevator was ersatz!"

As we continued to look into the dark depths of the shaft, my excitement could no longer hold back my fear. I knew the elevator was ersatz and I knew if it was, we were going to have to climb down.

"We have to go down there," I said. I could scarcely believe what I was saying, but today was just one of those few days where I knew I had to trust my instincts.

"It's so scary," my older sister said, "Look how dark it is. I'm not sure I have the courage to go down there."

"Prollit," Sunny said, which meant, "But not as terrifying as what Gunther will do to us, if we don't find out his plan."

"And I'm afraid of what he'll do to Jane," I said, "and the Quagmires are probably down there too. The question is, how will we get down? I don't see a ladder, or a staircase. I don't see anything at all."

"We're going to have to climb down," Violet said, "on a rope. But where can we find a rope at this time of night? Most hardware stores close at six."

"The Squalors must have some rope somewhere in their penthouse," Klaus said, "Let's split up and find some. We'll meet back here in fifteen minutes."

Violet and Sunny agreed so we tiptoed back inside the penthouse. I searched everywhere for some kind of rope. When that was hopeless, I took some curtain pulls down from some of the windows, since they were the closest thing I could find to a rope.

I showed it to Violet and Sunny when we met back up in front of the elevators. Violet admitted she couldn't find a rope either and showed us the extension cords she found. Sunny held up a bunch of Jerome's neckties.

"Well we have some ersatz ropes," Violet said, "for our climb down the ersatz elevator. Let's tie them all together with the Devil's Tongue."

"The Devil's Tongue?" I asked.

"It's a knot," Violet explained. "It was invented by female Finnish pirates in the fifteenth century. I used it to make my grappling hook, when Olaf had Sunny trapped in that cage, dangling from his tower room, and it'll work here as well. We need to make as long a rope as possible—for all we know, the passageway goes all the way to the bottom floor of the building."

"It looks like it goes all the way to the center of the earth," I said, "We've spent so much time trying to escape from Count Olaf. I can't believe we're trying to find him."

"Me neither," Violet agreed, "If it weren't for Jane and the Quagmires, I wouldn't go down there at all."

"Bangemp," Sunny reminded us. What she meant was, "If it weren't for Jane and the Quagmires, we would have been in his clutches a long time ago."

Violet and I nodded in agreement. Then, Violet taught us how to make the Devil's Tongue. Soon enough, we had one long rope consisting of extension cords, neckties, and curtain pulls. Violet tied the end of the rope with the neckties around the doorknob of the front door and gave it a satisfied tug.

"I think this should hold us," she said, "I hope it's long enough."

"Why don't we drop the rope down the shaft," I said, "and listen to see if it hits the bottom? Then we'll know for sure."

"Good idea," Violet replied. She walked to then edge of the passageway and threw the rope down. We waited, listening as we heard the rope slithering down. I wondered if there even was a bottom because it felt like I was staring into an endless black hole. Finally, we heard a faint clink as the rope hit some kind of metal object. The thought of climbing all the way down that shaft, terrified me, but I couldn't waste anymore time. Jane needed me and I owed her after everything she's done for me. Like, how she snuck into Shirley's office to save me from being hypnotized and how she willing went into Alfonso's clutches so he would stop coming after my siblings and I. I didn't like knowing I owed Jane so much. I had to pay her back. I made a small vow to myself, then, that if Jane were ever apart from me, I would always come looking for her to make sure she was safe. I owed her that much.

So without any further hesitation, I blew on my hands and began to lower myself down the rope.

"Come on," I whispered to Violet and Sunny who were still at the top, "it's okay."

We began the climb. It grew darker as we got farther and farther away from the top, and seemed like it would never end. I kept holding on to thoughts of Jane to motivate me and take my mind off the fact that I was terrified.

I remembered what she had said to me before I had left, _"Just think,"_ her voice just an echo in my thoughts, _"you'll always have a reason to come find me."_ And then, she had mouthed _"Keep holding on."_ I recalled my reaction, how I had just turned and walked out that door. How could I have done that to her? Not even uttered a small thank you or something. I wish in that moment, I had mouthed back to her, the words I have been holding back all this time. The three words that might change everything. For better or for worse, I wasn't absolutely sure, but it would've been better than anything else I could've done or said.

The thought of seeing Jane again, made me speed up a bit. When I finally felt something hard beneath my feet, I practically jumped off the rope to the ground. Violet and Sunny reached the ground after I did. I was already looking around the dark room. My eyes rested on a metal cage and as I took a step toward it, I realized the cage wasn't empty. For inside were the trembling figures of Duncan and Isadora Quagmire. And sitting with her head resting against the hard, stone wall, sleeping, was a peaceful looking girl with the same blonde hair and the same face. She was the girl I came here looking for, but as I looked more closely at her, my hope disintegrated entirely.

Because this girl-this mangled and broken girl-was not the Jane that I remembered, not even when her eyes fluttered open. Eyes that seemed to penetrate the pain she felt right through me. Knowing Gunther was probably the reason for the multiple bruises and scratches covering her frail skin and messing up her pretty fac made it impossible not to want to scream in rage. I knew deep down inside me that those bruises and scratches, scrapes and cuts, were branded with my name. Mocking me. Because I hadn't been quick enough. Because I hadn't been strong or brave enough. Because I turned away from her. Because I had let her go.

* * *

><p><strong>Review and let me know what you think! :)<strong>

**I'll update soon!**


	8. Hope

**Here's a new chapter finally! Sorry about the delay, my town was hit by Hurricane Irene and i lost power for an entire week and i just got my internet and cable back today. It really sucked. Anyways, i hope this chapter makes up for it :) School starts for me tomorrow so i don't know if i'll be able to update as often.**

**Well, enjoy! R&R please!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Hope<strong>

_**Jane Rumary**_

"I'm dreaming," I heard Duncan's hoarse voice say in utter shock, "I must be dreaming."

"But how can you be dreaming," Isadora said, "If I'm having the same dream?"

I would've thought the Quagmires sharing a dream was something that came along with the fact that they were triplets, but I could see the Baudelaires too. "I see them too," I said, "we can't _all _be having the same dream."

I rubbed my eyes as I stared at the three shadowy figures who looked like the Baudelaires. Could we all really be dreaming? But how come it seemed so real?

"I once read about a journalist," Duncan whispered, "who was reporting on a war and was imprisoned by the enemy for three years. Each morning, she looked out her cell window and thought she saw her grandparents coming to rescue her. But they weren't really there. It was a hallucination."

"I remember reading about a poet," Isadora said, "who would see six lovely maidens in his kitchen on Tuesday nights, but his kitchen was really empty. It was a phantasm."

"I read a book where this character is tortured and brainwashed enough that he couldn't seem to find the difference between what was real and what wasn't," I whispered, "it's not exactly non-fiction, but it could happen to anyone."

"No," I heard the tallest one speak, Violet, and she reached her hand into the bars of the cage. I shrunk back, still unsure of whether it was real. I wondered if I took her hand, whether I would feel nothing but air, or her soft skin. "It's not a hallucination. It's me, Violet Baudelaire."

"And it's really Klaus," Klaus said. At the sound of his voice, I wanted to reach out and take the hand he stuck inside the cage. But I was afraid if I touched him, he would disappear. "And you haven't lost your grip on reality."

"Sunny!" Sunny shrieked, which probably meant, "It's really Sunny and I'm not a phantasm."

Seeing them, hearing them. It was all too good to be true. Were they really here to rescue us? Did I receive further damage to my eye?

"Is it really you?" Duncan said, squinting at the Baudelaires. "Can it really, really be you?"

"How can I know you're not going to disappear?" I asked Klaus, staring into his dark brown eyes. The eyes that had always reminded me that I was safe. I looked away after a moment; I didn't want to get too caught up in something that could very easily be fake.

"Because you were the one who told me to come find you, remember?" Klaus whispered and I heard tears in his voice. "So here I am."

I stretched out my hand and met his. His hand was warm, like the color of his eyes, which I was now lost in. And at his touch, I didn't need any further explanations because I knew he was here. I was safe. From Olaf, from Esmé, from everyone who'd ever tried to hurt me. Now that I was holding the hand of my best friend.

"Are you alright?" Klaus asked, looking at the bruises that had formed on my arm.

I grimaced. "I'm hanging in there," I whispered, "for you." I gave him a small smile at that, which he returned, his brown eyes gentle.

"I can't believe I let him take you away from us again," Klaus said, "and you're covered in bruises. I'm so sorry, Jane."

"Don't," I said, softly, "don't apologize. Besides, I barely feel them."

"It really is you," Isadora said, grasping Violet's hand, "We're not dreaming. They're really here."

"But how did you find us?" Duncan asked, "Luckily, we know where we are after Jane explained it, but how did _you_ know where to look?"

"Klaus was the one who figured it out," Violet said, "he discovered the secret passageway behind those elevator doors. We weren't sure where it would take us, but we knew wherever the shaft led, it would bring us one step closer to finding you."

"I knew I could count on you to find us," I said, giving Klaus a small smile. Joy surged through me knowing that Klaus was the one who figured it out. "you would never let me down like that. I can't believe you were brave enough to climb down that scary shaft, with only that rope? Well, it's better than how I got down here. Olaf pushed me. Luckily I fell into a net."

"I was afraid to climb down here," Violet said, "but I think falling would be even scarier. You are quite brave."

"So what happened?" He asked me, "After we left, what did Olaf do to you?"

"Well," I started, "he was staring at me the whole time with those shiny eyes. He kept making remarks and then I couldn't take it anymore. I asked to be excused, but they wouldn't let me go. And then, I saw…" I trailed off. It would be too difficult to explain about the drinks without a coaster underneath without mentioning Monty Kensicle. "I realized what was going to happen next. I knew they were going to grab me if I didn't get away." Recalling the memory brought tears to my eyes. Realizing Esmé wasn't who I had thought her to be. "So I ran. I ran and I tried to get away. I tried," A tear fell down my cheek. "for you. But they were faster and then—then Gunther grabbed me and I was thrown into that elevator shaft. I fell into this net and I think I fainted. When I woke up, Olaf was carrying me to this cage. But when he saw I was awake, he, um…well…you see these bruises." I gestured to my arms and my face. "He was angry because I had helped you foil his plans the last time and since I escaped, of course. When he stopped, I was brought here." I finished and waited for them to speak.

"That's awful, Jane," Violet said, looking horrified, "we're so sorry."

I looked at Klaus, thinking he was going to say something, but he was silent. "My sister means, is Esmé in cahoots with Olaf, then?" Violet translated.

I nodded. "She tricked me," I said, "She was so nice to me, and I fell for it. Like a fool."

"We all thought she was good," Klaus spoke finally. "even though some of the things she says aren't very kind. We should've known and called Mr. Poe."

"Do you think Jerome could be working with Olaf too?" Violet asked.

"I-I don't know," I said. "All I know is that Esmé is not to be trusted. Don't let her find out that you know, because it might make her do something bad to you. Just be careful, please. I don't want her to hurt you."

"We'll be careful," Violet reassured me, "but you should be more worried about your own safety."

"What happened when you got back to the apartment?" I asked, "What did Esmé say?"

"Well, when we got back to the apartment building after dinner at Café Salmonella that evening," Violet said, "the doorman wouldn't let us up. He said Gunther—that's the name Olaf has been using for his disguise—" Violet spoke to the Quagmires, "hadn't left the building so we couldn't go back up to the penthouse. But Esmé said he had left the penthouse and that he took you with him. She told us you decided to spend a few nights with Gunther until the In Auction. So we looked for him everywhere and our search brought us here."

"We know what he's been calling himself," Duncan said, "We knew even before Jane told us. Whenever Count Olaf gets a chance, he brags about his plans to us. I write every single detail down when he isn't looking so I can remember it all. I may be a kidnap victim, but I'm still a journalist."

"And I'm still a poet," Isadora said, "look." She turned to a new poem she had been writing.

"_On Auction Day, when the sun goes down,_

_ Gunther will sneak us out of town."_

"How will he do that?" Violet asked. "The police have been informed of your kidnapping, except for Jane's, of course, and they'll be on the lookout."

"I know," Duncan said, "Gunther wants to smuggle us out of the city and hide us on some island where the police won't find us. He'll keep us on the island until we come of age and he can steal our sapphires and Jane's fortune. Once he has our fortune, he says, he'll take us and—"

"Don't say it," Isadora said, covering her ears, "He's told us so many horrible things. I can't stand to hear them again."

"Don't worry, Isadora," Klaus said, taking her hand in his free hand. "We'll alert the authorities, and they'll arrest him before he can do anything."

"But it's almost too late," I said, "The In Auction is tomorrow morning. He's going to hide us in one of the items and have one of his associates place the highest bid."

"Which item?" Violet asked.

Duncan flipped through the pages of his notebook. I saw his eyes widen at something he was rereading it. "I don't know," he said, "Gunther's told us so many haunting secrets, Violet. So many awful schemes—All the treachery he's done in the past, and all he's planning to do in the future. It's all here in this notebook—from V.F.D. all the way to this terrible auction plan."

"We'll have plenty of time to discuss everything later," Klaus said, "but in the meantime, let's get you out of thus cage before Gunther comes back. Violet, do you think you can pick this lock?"

Violet examined the lock. "It's pretty complicated," Violet said, "He must have bought himself some extra-difficult locks, after I broke into that suitcase of his when we were living with Uncle Monty. If I had some tools, maybe I could invent something, but there's absolutely nothing down here."

"Aguen?" Sunny asked, which I think meant, "Could you saw through the bars of the cage?"

"Not saw," Violet said, so quietly, I had to strain my ears to hear her. "I don't have the time to manufacture a saw. But maybe…" She trailed off and began tying her hair up in a ribbon to keep it out of her eyes.

"Look," Isadora said, "She's thinking up an invention! We'll be out of here in no time!"

I brightened. Hope filling me.

"Every night since we've been kidnapped," Duncan said, "we've been dreaming of the day when we would see Violet Baudelaire inventing something that could rescue us."

"If we're going to rescue you in time," Violet said, and I could see she was really concentrating, "then my siblings and I are going to have to climb back up to the penthouse right away."

I looked around the room. "You're going to leave us alone?" I asked.

"If I'm going to invent something to get you out of that cage," Violet replied, "I need all the help I can get, so Klaus and Sunny have to come with me. Sunny, start climbing. Klaus and I will be right behind you."

"Onosew," Sunny said, and I assumed it meant, "Yes ma'am." Because Klaus lifted her up to the end of the rope and she began to climb back up.

"Wait, Klaus," I said, "don't go yet." I reached for his hand.

Klaus paused and took my hand again. Violet was grasping the Quagmires' hands.

"What is it?" he asked.

"There's something I need to tell you," I said, "something really important."

"Why don't we wait to talk about it later?" Klaus said, "We'll have plenty of time when we're all safe. Don't worry, Jane, we'll be back as soon as we can."

"But if something happens like it did the last time," Duncan said, "then, we need to tell you about V.F.D. before the auction."

"We'll save you this time," Violet said, "we're going to get you out of this cage. We'll see you very soon. Come on, Klaus."

Violet began to climb up the rope. Klaus started after her.

"Wait!" I called again.

"We'll be back, Jane," Klaus said, "I promise. We'll get you away from Gunther so he can't hurt you anymore. But like you told me earlier, stay strong. And keep holding on." At that, he grabbed the rope and started to follow Violet up. "We'll see you all soon," he said as he disappeared up the dark shaft.

I slumped against the wall, feeling hopeless. Could they really rescue us in time? Gunther said he would be back very soon. How soon? I wish I would have stopped Klaus and told him what was on my mind. Now I'd have to go on again without him knowing how I feel about him.

* * *

><p>We waited and waited for the Baudelaires to show. I realized we've been waiting a lot lately, for freedom to come to us. It made me itch to think I wasn't able to see what kind of progress the Baudelaires were making and whether they were on their way down.<p>

To pass the time, Duncan began telling me about V.F.D. and some of the things they discovered.

"The tattoo on Olaf's ankle was their insignia," Duncan explained, "it used to define the volunteers of the organization so people would know they were noble. Unfortunately, some former volunteers turned to the villainous side. The insignia's meaning faded and now it's just a reminder of the organization they once were."

"How did the schism start?" I asked.

"Olaf didn't say," Isadora said, "but it happened a very long time ago. When he was a child."

"I've been thinking a little about some other schisms that there have been throughout history," Duncan said, flipping through his notebook, "There was a schism with the Church in Europe that separated the Christians after much heresy and controversy. Heresy is when people of a religion speak out against it. The Eastern Orthodox Church, also known as Greek Orthodox, and the Roman Catholic Church. They usually didn't get along because at that time, the church had overall authority. It was their way of life so there were many wars like the Crusades involving the two sides. During the fourth Crusade, the Catholics turned on the Orthodox altogether and attacked them. The schism began when the Eastern Orthodox Church didn't believe in using the same style of worship."

"That's quite interesting," I said, the wheels in my brain turning as I tried to discover a connection with the schism of V.F.D. I always have had an interest in history because I liked to find connections to how our world is today. Many people find that stuff boring, but it's the opposite for me. History was always my favorite subject in school.

"There was also another schism I read about once," Duncan added, "There was another religious schism for the religion of Islam. The Shiites and the Sunnis developed when they couldn't decide who should replace Muhammad as the caliph, or ruler. And ever since, they've been competing for power."

"But how can that help us figure out what caused the schism of V.F.D.?" Isadora said, "V.F.D. is an organization, not a religion."

"That doesn't make it too different," Duncan said. "If the Roman Church separated into two religions, well, who says V.F.D. didn't separate too. Like the noble volunteers, and the villainous ones."

"Maybe that's not all they separated into," I said, "The Christians wanted something different so they created their own religion. So, what if the villains, in turn, developed their own organization? And they're just trying to compete with the volunteers for power."

"But the villains, organization wants to create havoc," Isadora said, "which is why the volunteers are working so hard to stop them."

"I'm curious, though," I said, "if the schism happened when Count Olaf was just a child, what made him…choose to be a villain?"

Before any of us could answer, we heard footsteps and Gunther entered the small room. Behind him, the bald man and the man who looks like neither a man nor a woman were carrying a red fish statue. They put it down in front of the cage and laid it on its side. The bald man began to open the bottom of the statue and inside; we could see it was hollow.

Gunther strode over to us and smirked.

"I'm back, just like I said I would be," he said, "and soon I'll be free to snatch both of your fortunes." We exchanged glances. The Baudelaires were far too late to save us now. "And of course, the Baudelaires will soon be in my clutches too. I'm already making a list of things I want to spend your money on. Soon, I'll be the richest man alive so you'd better be on your best behavior. Since I'll be the one who decides your puny little ends. Maybe if you're good, I'll make your death quick. But if you're rude like Jane here, it will be long and _very_ painful." He flashed me a wicked smile. I knew he was trying to push my buttons so I would wind up in more trouble, but I was silent. Duncan and Isadora didn't speak either, which made Gunther raise his eyebrow. "Why are you so quiet?"

He looked from Duncan, to Isadora, and then his gaze zeroed in on me.

"We're just very tired," Duncan said. He was right, I was tired and

"Well, if you were smart, you would've gotten some sleep before," Gunther said, "you wouldn't be so tired. We've got a long journey tomorrow, so if I were you, I'd try to get some sleep tonight while you have time."

None of us said a word. We just nodded. I stared at the spot where I'd seen the Baudelaires appear from earlier. Although, they had confirmed it was really them, the more time passed without them showing, the more I began to believe it really had been a dream.

"Why do I feel like you're keeping something from me?" Gunther said, his shiny eyes piercing us, bringing my attention back to him. He leaned forward so we could smell his disgusting breath. "That you're lying to me." He looked at me again.

"What do you mean?" Isadora said, keeping her voice steady and strong, "We haven't lied about anything. We really are tired."

"All right," Gunther said, backing off. He took out the silver key from his pocket and began to unlock the door. "Stand back, Blondie, the twins are first to go."

I did as he said, though, I was reluctant to let him stuff my friends into that large red fish statue. He swung the door open and grabbed Duncan with one hand and Isadora with the other. After much effort, they were forced inside the fish statue and he closed the bottom locking it tight. Then, he pulled the statue upright.

I knitted my eyebrows together as the bald man and the one who looked like neither a man nor woman carried the statue away.

"You'll be in a different item," Gunther said as he turned around, "I don't want you giving them any bad ideas. They've certainly been a lot easier to deal with than you've been, despite how much they complain." I almost uttered a laugh as I thought about the Quagmires repeatedly sneaking out to meet with Monty Kensicle to plot against him, but I knew it wasn't wise so I remained silent.

"You've been very quiet since I came back," he said, eyeing me carefully. "Why do you think that is?"

"I'm just trying not to cause trouble," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. I was terrified that it would crack at the wrong moment and give us away, "like you told me not to, so I decided it would be best if I didn't speak at all."

"Really?" Gunther said, his eyes gleaming, "Well, do you want to know what I think?" He inched closer to me. "I think you're a filthy, little liar." His hands seized my hair and yanked me out from the cage. He grabbed my shoulders then, gripping them tightly in his hands. "But I'll give you a chance, Jane, tell me what it is you're not telling me and I won't harm you."

"I'm not lying," I said, quickly, "nothing happened."

Gunther frowned. "But, Jane," he said, bringing his face closer again, "I know I haven't treated you well since you got back in my clutches. But I can change. All you have to do is be honest with me and maybe I'll take back what I said about you're slow death before."

I was silent, still. And that frustrated him. "I know something was going on down here. Did you and your little orphan friends form another idiotic plan to foil mine?"

I forbid myself from responding so I clamped my jaw shut. Even when he slapped me hard across the face, I refused to speak.

His hand grasped my chin tightly. "Why won't you speak?" he growled and struck me again. "You better speak or I'll have your tongue removed so you can never speak again."

"I'm not lying," I said, quickly, "I'm not—"

"Oh, but of course you are, Jane," Gunther said, "Isn't it obvious? You're keeping secrets for your little friends. And I know it must have something to do with escaping. Am I right?"

"No, I'm not planning on…" I trailed off as my eyes caught something. Just a few feet from Gunther, an object dropped down to the bottom of the elevator shaft. It was thin and obviously tied to something somewhere high above because it dangled just above the floor. It was made up what looked like extension cords tied together. My eyes widened in horror as I realized that it was the rope the Baudelaires used to get down here. I guessed they were about to come to rescue us with the welding torches. It was disappointing that their plans to save us wouldn't be fast enough and could be stopped by Gunther.

It was even worse because in those few seconds that the rope clinked against the metal of the cage, Gunther looked to his right, seeing as the rope reached the floor. He stared at it oddly for a second and then his eyes shone brightly as he realized what he was looking at. He stared at me and I knew I was in trouble.

"Care to explain why there is some kind of rope hanging from somewhere up there?" he asked.

"I don't know anything about that," I lied, "I'm just as surprised as you are."

"You liar," he sneered and then, I felt the sting as his hand came down on my cheek again, "I know you have something to do with it. Now tell me, is there someone climbing down that rope as we speak? Perhaps…three bratty orphans who think they're about to foil my plans again?"

Tears filled my eyes, but I kept shaking my head fiercely. I knew there was no point because he was going to find out anyways, but I'd rather he hit me again than admit the Baudelaires were climbing down that rope.

"They're coming to rescue you, right?" Gunther growled. "Trying to be little heroes. It's a shame I'll have to tell them their own friend told me all about their idiotic plans so I was able to put a stop to them."

"No," I gasped, "don't tell them that! I never—"

"Then, listen closely," Gunther hissed, leaning closer to me, "I won't tell your bratty friends that you told me about their plans, if you agree to be on your best behavior. But one false move and they'll learn the truth."

I sighed. "Fine."

"Now, excuse me for a moment while I tell my associates about our agreement," Gunther said, pulling out a walkie-talkie from his pocket. He still grasped my shoulder with one of his filthy hands.

"What is it Olaf?" the harsh voice of the bald man came through the other end.

Gunther gritted his teeth together. "Call me Gunther, you idiot," he hissed.

"Oh, sorry Ol-er, Gunther," the bald man said.

"Never mind that," Gunther said, "Did you deliver the item to Veblen Hall?"

"Yes, sir. We're on our way with the other item. It's the one that looks like a mermaid, right?"

"Yes, of course," Gunther replied, "And I have some good news. The blonde brat just admitted that the Baudelaires are coming down the shaft to try and rescue her and the twins. Of course, I won't allow that to happen, which is why I need you to bring me that bag. It has something important that I need."

"Yes, boss," the bald man said, "We'll be there soon."

Gunther pressed a button, which turned it off and stuck it back in his pocket. He began to push me back into the cage. It swung close and I was yet again trapped inside. "Now, we'll wait for your item to arrive."

I nodded silently and my gaze shifted to the rope still hanging there. I hoped that they weren't close to the bottom yet.

'_At least they would be armed_,' I thought, which was true. Violet might have made welding torches to melt the bars of the cage.

I tried to imagine if Gunther hadn't shown up yet and the Quagmires and I were waiting anxiously for the Baudelaires. I pictured seeing the Baudelaires reaching the bottom before it was too late and melting the bars. I imagined giving Klaus a big hug and…maybe kiss him. I shied away at the thought. Then, we would all climb back up the rope. We could contact Mr. Poe or someone for help. And then, we would all be safe. Maybe not forever. Gunther might escape again and find us yet again, but at least we would be together.

The thought of us all being together made me so happy that I was grinning. It faded when I realized it was all just a dream.

The bald man and the one who looks like neither a man nor a woman, arrived then. They carried a large statue that looked like a mermaid like they had said it would be. I stared at the mermaid, seeing how perfect the artist had made her. She was made from gold, her bow shaped lips curved into a smile and parted slightly. Her nose was small and slender. Her hair began at the peak of her smooth forehead and flowed down to cover her chest. Her tail was long and curled around the rocks she was perched on. My gaze shifted upwards and met her emerald studded eyes that sparkled.

The bald man handed Gunther a sack and he opened it. His eyes gleamed as he stared at the items in it as if they were toys. He reached one hand inside and drew out what looked like a large net. The ends were tied to wooden pegs.

"Excellent," he said. He dropped the net and then pulled out a rope.

My cage opened then, and I was being pulled out.

"A net?" I asked Gunther. "Why do you need a net?" I gasped as I remembered falling down the elevator shaft and landing in a net. That same net. He was putting it back, but why? To catch the Baudelaires? "You're not going to…"

"Catch your bratty friends?" Gunther said, his eyes shining brightly, "Well of course."

"No," I gasped again.

"Oh, yes," Gunther sneered.

"You can't!" I shouted, "I-I…No!" I ran past him over to the rope and grabbed hold. From above, I heard someone shouting something. It sounded like my name.

I wasn't climbing for too long before I was grabbed and pulled back to the ground. My arms were pinned behind my back and I struggled against the rope that was used to bind my wrists together.

"Klaus! Klaus!" I yelled back as loud as I could. "Get out—"

A hand clamped my mouth to silence me and then, I felt something sticky as Count Olaf put masking tape over my mouth. I received two slaps that stung my cheeks before I was being dragged over to that mermaid.

"Remember our deal, Blondie," Count Olaf sneered before pushing me towards the mermaid. As I got closer to the statue, I looked at the mermaid's face again. Her friendly smile suddenly turned mocking, her emerald eyes twinkling devilishly as if she couldn't wait to have me trapped inside her.

I was pushed into the waiting arms of the bald man, who gladly took the honor to shove me into the dark hole that had been made just for me to fit into. The bottom of the statue shut and I found myself in complete darkness again.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Klaus Baudelaire<strong>_

We made the long climb back up to the penthouse and we found a few fire tongs to use as welding torches. We waited for them to heat up for what felt like hours. Violet said the tips had to be white hot before we could take them out, or else they wouldn't work.

But after awhile, yellow turned to orange, orange turned to red, and soon the tips were white. We were ready to make the journey back down and I began feeling hopeful again. There was a possibility, that we would rescue Jane and the Quagmires tonight. I couldn't contain my excitement at the thought, but I forbid myself from celebrating until Jane, Isadora, Duncan, my siblings and I were all on the top of the elevator shaft. I focused on getting my welding torch down there to help them crawl free. Then, I'd have the time I needed to tell Jane and I'd be able to make sure Gunther never hurt her like that ever again

We tied the rope to the door again and Violet pushed the button at the second pair of sliding doors. She tossed the rope down and we waited for it to reach the bottom again. The elevator shaft was still scary looking, but my mind was on Jane and the Quagmires, so I was the first to begin the climb down. It was a little hard, since Violet and I were each carrying, one very hot welding torch in our hands. My main concern at the moment was moving quickly, so we would get there before the iron completely cooled.

I kept thinking about Jane and a shred of doubt caused my hope to fade a little. What if I was too late again? I didn't like to think of the idea of the Quagmires and Jane stuffed into an item. I especially didn't want to think of Gunther having the freedom to do whatever he wanted to them. They weren't protected from him and after seeing Jane's beaten body, it scared me to think of Gunther doing something worse to her. I knew how dangerous he could be.

I couldn't let that happen to her. Not when I was so close to rescuing her. And of course, we needed to rescue the Quagmires. They did so much for us and we owed them.

When I felt myself getting closer to the ground, I allowed myself to call out to them.

"Jane," I called, hoping she could hear me, "Jane!"

I heard a muffled cry, something that could be my name. Was she responding? Or was she in danger? I couldn't be sure, but my pace quickened all the same. It was taking too long though, and I felt my heart pounding, my palms sweating.

"Duncan!" I called, "Isadora! Jane!"

My foot touched ground and I hopped off of the rope. I knew even before I looked into that tiny cage that all hope was lost.

"No," I gasped.

I whipped my head around, in case she was still here, just hiding somewhere in the darkness.

"Jane!" I cried, "Jane!"

There was only silence. I slumped against the cage and threw my welding torch in the corner angrily. She had just been here. How could she have disappeared that quickly? Why couldn't I have been faster? I put my head in my hands, letting the tears fall. I knew I had been too late again.

* * *

><p><strong>Review!<strong>

**I'll try to update ASAP!**


	9. The Catalog

**Here's a new chapter! **

**R&R and Enjoy please! **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine: The Catalog<strong>

It was dark around where I sat inside the statue. I assumed I was in the part where the rocks were because I couldn't see where the walls were. I think I had been shoved through the back of the statue near the giant rock. But these observations were brief because I wasn't thinking about them. I kept trying to yell for the Baudelaires, despite the tape over my mouth. I knew they couldn't hear me, though because I couldn't hear much besides my own breathing and muffled screams.

When I knew all attempts were hopeless, I fell silent. I hung my head and I felt tears leaking from my eyes. I had let the Baudelaires down. Yet again. now Count Olaf was going to catch them too and there would be no hope left. Olaf would sneak us out of town and to that island. To that stupid island with nowhere for us to escape except by boat or by swimming, if we dared. We were all doomed and it was my entire fault. Why couldn't I be a better liar? Weren't actresses supposed to be good at that stuff?

I looked up and tried to make out where the face of the mermaid was. It was too dark to see much, but I spotted a hole carved near the top. I guessed it was the hole I had seen for her mouth. For me, it was my only source of fresh air so I wouldn't suffocate in here. It would've been a source of light too, if it weren't so dark outside of the statue.

I managed to get to my feet, but as soon as I did, I was jerked and fell against the side of the statue. I didn't have my hands to steady myself or brace myself, so something that was rather sharp scratched my arm and my leg. I couldn't tell what it was and I hoped I would get some light soon so I could check it out.

The statue shifted again so I was tipped to the other side where the sharp object scratched my other arm and leg. I wondered why I was tipping. Olaf's associates were probably carrying the statue. After a moment, the statue was upright again. I couldn't hear much of what was going on outside the statue, but I heard faint scraping sounds from below that sounded like wheels turning.

My stomach growled then. It just occurred to me that I was really hungry and thirsty. I haven't had anything to drink since those aqueous martinis I had at the Squalors' before Gunther arrived. And I haven't eaten since long before that because Esmé forgot to give me dinner that evening. I regretted giving up that bread before when Duncan had offered it to me.

After waiting for quite sometime, I felt the statue being lifted again. So again I fell to the side, hurting my arms and legs yet again.

The statue was being carried again, causing me to fall back and forth against the sides. It was being lifted higher than I expected and I struggled not to lose my balance. After I realized it was hopeless, I decided it would be best if I sat down again. The statue rocked again as I went to sit and still, I fell against the sides. But after a brief moment, the statue went still. I must have reached my destination.

It was still dark and I had no idea where I was other than the fact that I was inside a statue of a mermaid. I found the hole at the top of the mermaid again and I had the idea of looking through it to see if I was in Veblen Hall or in another part of the elevator shaft. But the mouth was so high up and there was no way I would be able to reach it with my hands tied behind my back. And I was really short, which furthered my disappointment. I remembered when I was younger, I used to think I would grow up to be as tall as a giant. Then, Carmelita wouldn't be mean to me anymore because I'd threaten to squish her like a bug if she was. That thought had always made me smile. Of course, later, after I realized it was impossible for me to fly, it occurred to me that my dreams of being the tallest person in the world would not turn out as I planned.

I wished now that it was still possible. Then, I'd be too big for Gunther to shove me inside this mermaid and I wouldn't have fit in that cage. I could've stopped him from kidnapping me again and rescued the Quagmires. I could've made the Baudelaires proud of me and done something helpful. Instead, I've been hopelessly small and weak; I can't even last a few weeks without getting kidnapped by Gunther again.

I sighed and leaned my head against the side, avoiding whatever sharp object kept scratching up my arms. I felt it was a good time to write in my journal, except, when I had pulled it out and turned to a fresh page, it was so dark, I could barely see the white lined paper. I made an attempt to scrawl out the events that occurred in the last few hours, from the Baudelaires coming, to being thrown in this statue. But the writing was messy and I wasn't sure if I was even staying on the lines of the paper. I just hoped it would be somewhat legible.

When I was done, I was left with nothing else to do. I thought about sleeping like Gunther suggested. But every time I closed my eyes, I kept thinking about the poor Baudelaires who could be trapped in that net or possibly that cage. Besides, I was too antsy about the In Auction to sleep. What if I fell asleep and missed the entire auction? I knew the In Auction would be my last chance to at least rescue the Baudelaires or the Quagmires. I would try to escape too, of course, but lately, I haven't done the best with staying out of Olaf's clutches.

Despite, my worries, eventually, I felt myself slip into a light sleep. I woke up with a start. I had another nightmare where Count Olaf was chasing me. my head hurt from leaning against the golden surface at an awkward position, which in turn caused my neck to ache.

I forgot where I was and it took me a moment to remember I was about to be auctioned off for the In Auction. I also realized that it was light outside, wherever this statue was being kept. It wasn't too much of a difference, but it was bright enough to see what had been cutting up my arms and legs. A piece of metal was stuck to the side of the statue near my arms. It circled what I thought was the top of the mermaid's tail and was stuck to it with tiny screws. It looked as if it were placed there to hold the insides together. The edges of the metal were kind of sharp looking and dangerous like they had proved to be last night. Another was placed near my legs at what I thought to be where the rocks ended. I knew by the end of this auction, I would be so scratched up that it would look like I had been at battle.

**Klaus Baudelaire**

We came up with a new plan and soon we were making another journey up the rope ladder to the penthouse apartment. You would think, that after traveling up and down this shaft three times in just a few hours would make things much easier. But the darkness still scared me. I felt like any minute I would lose my grip and fall into the waiting mouth of this monstrous hole.

When we reached the top, I wasted no time and hurried to the library where I easily found the catalog of items for the In Auction. It might be too late to save Jane and the Quagmires from the cage at the bottom of the elevator shaft, but we still have a chance of preventing them from being sold in the In Auction.

I looked at every lot, which ranged from a piano to a vase full of blue flowers, specifically Cape Plumbago's. Nothing looked like it could fit three orphans. Jane was small in size, but not even she could fit into most of these items. Maybe she could fit under the lid of the piano, but with the Quagmires to fit inside as well, it seemed hopeless.

I was just reading about Lot #49 when Violet and Sunny entered. I kept focusing on reading though.

"I hate to disturb you when you're researching," Violet said, "But there was a note on my pillow from Jerome. Esmé is going to take us to Veblen Hall at ten-thirty sharp, and it 's just past ten o'clock. Is there any way we can help you?"

"I don't see how," I said, my mind focusing on the words on the page as I spoke. "There's only one copy of the catalog, and it's pretty complicated. Each of the items for the auction is called a lot, and the catalog lists each lot with a description and a guess at what the highest bid may be. I've read up to Lot #49, which is a valuable postage stamp."

"Well, Gunther can't hide them in a postage stamp," Violet said, "You can skip that lot."

"I've been skipping tons of lots," I said, "but I'm not any closer to figuring out where the Quagmires and Jane will be hidden. Would Gunther decide to hide them in Lot #14—an enormous globe? Would he hide them under the lid of Lot #25—a rare and valuable piano? Would he hide them in Lot #48—an enormous statue of a scarlet fish?" I turned the page of the catalog, "Or would he hide them in Lot #50, which is—"

I gasped as I stared at the name. In clear writing, "V.F.D." was printed on the page. There was no description of what the item contained, but I didn't need to read a description. I knew Jane and the Quagmires would be hiding in V.F.D., whatever it was.

"I can't believe my eyes," Violet said, "I just can't believe it."

"Toomsk," Sunny said, which meant, "This must be where Jane and the Quagmires will be hidden."

"I agree with Sunny," I said, "even though there's no description of the item. They don't even write what the letters stand for."

"Well, we're going to find out," Violet said, "Because we're going to rescue the Quagmires and Jane from Lot #50 before they leave the city. I guess the time was ripe for your researching skills."

"I guess I was," I said, "I can't believe it."

"Can't believe what?"

We jumped and turned to see Esmé Squalor standing in the doorway of the library. I remembered what Jane had told us, about Esmé being in cahoots with Count Olaf.

"Uh, nothing," Violet said, "we were just—"

"Looking at the catalog," Esmé finished, "Did you see anything you liked?" She walked over to us and peered over our shoulder at the catalog. "What's this? V.F.D.? Is that what you were looking at?"

"We were looking at all of the lots," I said, "we were just surprised that this is the only lot without a description. Do you know what it contains?"

"Gunther didn't tell me," Esmé said, "but he said it was one of the innest items in the catalog."

'Probably because he was hiding orphans inside,' I thought. Esmé was probably just covering for him. I couldn't trust a word she said anymore. I hated her. I hated anyone who hurt Jane because I knew she didn't deserve to be treated like that. It still made me mad to think about Carmelita Spats nearly killing Jane, and Christina and Kate humiliating her. I hated knowing that Gunther was free to push Jane around. Sometimes I wished that I could take Jane's place and she could be in my position now. Maybe she'd still be miserable in my situation, but at least she'd be safer—from Gunther, at least.

"Well, never mind that," Esmé said, "Let's go."

We put the catalog back on the table and followed Esmé from the library. She led us past various rooms until we exited the penthouse.

"Klaus and I will take turns carrying Sunny," Violet said, as she picked Sunny up. "That way the trip down the stairs will be easier for you.

"Oh, we don't have to walk down all those stairs," Esmé said.

"That's right," Violet agreed, "sliding down the banisters would be much faster."  
>Esmé put an arm around all of us and walked us away from the front door. Her arm was so tight around us that it made me feel uncomfortable. What was she going to do to us? "We won't have to slide down the banister, either," she said.<p>

"What other way is there?" I asked.

Esmé reached out her other arm to push the Up button next to the sliding doors. Now I was very anxious and I thought about slipping out of her grasp, but it was too late. "The elevator, of course," Esmé said, as the doors to the elevator slid open. With a smile, she tossed us into the dark shaft. We plummeted down the shaft, seeing nothing but darkness. I screamed, realizing just how scary the shaft was and I recalled how Jane informed me that she had arrived the same way. But what if there wasn't a net this time? I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing I had failed. I failed to help Jane and the Quagmires. Now I was meeting my death and then, I would be even less capable of rescuing them.

To my relief, we fell safely onto a net just as Jane did, and my fear ceased for the moment. It didn't last long though because as I studied our surroundings, I realized we were trapped in the middle of a dark elevator shaft.

"Spenset," Sunny said, hoarsely.

"Yes, Sunny," Violet said, holding Sunny close, "We're alive."

"Yes, we're alive," I said, "this is how Jane got down here, remember? We're alive and we're okay."

"I wouldn't say you're okay," Esmé said, still standing at the top of the elevator shaft. "You're alive, but you're definitely not okay. And neither is the blonde brat for that matter. As soon as the auction is over and the Quagmires and Jane are on their way out of the city, Gunther will come and get you, and I can guarantee that you three orphans will never be okay again. I'm sure you saw what happened to poor, little Jane. Oh, what a wonderful and profitable day! My former acting teacher will finally get his hands on not one or two, but three fortunes!"

"Jane is not little!" I cried, "And he better not hurt her ever again or I'll—"

I was interrupted by Esmé's cruel laughter. "Or what? Don't worry though, as long as the little blonde brat is on her best behavior during the In Auction, maybe she'll be okay. If not, I'm afraid that pretty face of hers will be ruined. But that's miniscule compared to what Gunther will do to you three."

"How could you do this to us?" I yelled, angrily, "Why are you working with such a terrible villain?"

"He's not a terrible villain," Esmé said, "He's a genius! I instructed the doorman not to let you out of the penthouse until Gunther came to get you, but after I received a certain message, he convinced me that it would be a lot better if I threw you down here and he was right! Now there's no way you'll make it to the auction and mess up our plans!"

"Zisalem!" Sunny shrieked.

"My sister is right!" Violet cried, "You're our guardian! You're supposed to be keeping us safe, not throwing us down elevator shafts and stealing our fortune!"

"But I want to steal from you," Esmé said, "I want to steal from you the way Beatrice stole from me."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, "You're already unbelievably wealthy. Why do you want even more money?"

"Because it's in, of course," Esmé said, "Well, toodle-oo, children. 'Toodle-oo' is the 'in' way of saying goodbye to three bratty orphans you're never going to see again."

"Why?" Violet cried, "Why are you treating us so terribly?"

Esmé responded by cruel laugher that echoed off the walls of the elevator shaft, making me cover my ears. It made me angry to think that Esmé was helping Gunther get away with my friends. I should've done something when I had done the chance. But lately, things weren't exactly going the way I would prefer them to. Especially, knowing Jane was being stuffed into an item with the Quagmires as we speak. And not just any item, Lot V.F.D, the mystery that was so close to being solved.

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it! If you did then you can always REVIEW! :)<strong>

**I'll try to update soon! (And maybe a little quicker than this one if i'm able to)**


	10. The In Auction

**Here's a new chapter! And i updated sooner than i expected :) Well, ENJOY!**

**And REVIEW of course!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten: The In Auction<strong>

The hum of voices poured through the hole from outside. I assumed it was nearly time for the In Auction because among those voices were Gunther and Esmé. Gunther had arrived first before any of the buyers, checking over every item, looking through my hole to make sure I was still there, and smiling when everything seemed like it would go as planned. Esmé came a half an hour later when there was already a crowd of people outside, bubbling with excitement over all sorts of things that I paid no attention to because I could barely make out what they were saying.

I could only hear Esmé and Gunther's voices, if I really strained my ears. By their conversation, which was something very unpleasant to listen to, I could tell the In Auction was about to start.

I tried to stretch my stiff legs but frowned when my bare feet touched clay before my knees could even straighten a little. I had removed my shoes a few hours ago, which was quite a difficult task without arms. I resorted to using my teeth to untie the laces loose enough so I could slide them off. I just felt so crammed in this tiny space. I didn't usually get claustrophobic, but sometimes it scared me to think 'what if I never got out of here?' Besides, it was also really stuffy and warm which caused fresh sweat to dew on my forehead and palms at even the tiniest thought.

Finally, Gunther began to demand the crowd's attention and soon enough, they fell silent, much to my appreciation. Now I could at least try and make sense of what was going on. I wasn't even sure what Lot number I was. Maybe Gunther will made me first and hopefully I'd be let out of this thing once I got to wherever they were taking us. But I kind of hoped I wasn't the first one too, because I wasn't entirely sure what would happen to me when I was let out of this thing. This statue was the only thing keeping me from possible harm at the moment. Maybe I should make peace with this statue. But it was hard when I couldn't decide whether I'd rather be in this statue or back in the cage underneath 667 Dark Avenue. At least the cage had been a little bigger than this.

"Welcome all you in ladies and gentlemen," Esmé spoke out to the sea of people eagerly waiting for the items. "Welcome to this years, In Auction. I'll be your hostess, my name is Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor and I am the cities sixth most important financial advisor. I'll be gladly handling all the profits made from this In Auction. Now, here's Gunther, the auctioneer all the way from Switzerland." She paused and something must have happened because after a beat the audience applauded. "He's the innest auctioneer in the entire world and he has come here today to work at this smashing event." There was more applause and Gunther started speaking.

"Yes, please, I'll be auctioneer, please. Before we start, please, cameras are not allowed. Phones as well. Anyone, please, found with one will not be allowed, please, to be at In Auction, please. Now, let's begin, please. Lot #1, please, is crystal-made silverware. See, please, ladies and gentlemen. Crystal in. Silverware in, please. Who bid?"

"One hundred dollars," someone called loud enough for me to hear.

"One hundred fifty," another person said.

"Two hundred."

"Two hundred fifty."

"Three hundred."

There was a brief pause. "Is three hundred last bidding of people, please?" Gunther asked. "Okay. Here is silverware, please. Give money, please, to Mrs. Squalor."

The rest of the In Auction continued as such and it was so boring I droned out most of what they were saying. I tuned in again at Lot #46, knowing the Quagmires would be up soon. When would it be my turn? Was I the lot before or after them? Not that I wanted this to speed up, but it was a little unsettling not knowing when I was up.

Lot #46 turned out to be a glass vase with blue flowers in it. I remembered them, because they had a funny name...they were called Cape Plumbago's. A woman bought the item for two hundred and fifty-three bucks.

Lot #48 came in the blink of an eye. The first bidder, of course, I recognized as both the doorman and the hook-handed man. But to my surprise, after hearing someone cough wretchedly, I heard the voice of Mr. Poe, bidding on the item. Hope filled me. Could this mean the Baudelaires had heard me and contacted Mr. Poe? Did Klaus read through the catalog and find the right one? I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed that Mr. Poe would win the bidding contest.

But then, another thought occurred to me. If they were bidding on Lot #48 to help free the Quagmires, well, did they know I was in a different item? Would they spend all their money on that fish statue and forget to rescue me? I shook it off. Even if they did, it wouldn't be that bad. At least I would know the Quagmires and the Baudelaires would be safe from Gunther's clutches.

My despair deepened when I realized the hook-handed man won the bidding war. Mr. Poe didn't put up nearly a good enough fight. I wonder if he even knew the Quagmires were inside. It crushed all my hopes that at least someone would be rescued. I knew now I was wrong and it was worse because I knew it was my entire fault. I let Gunther find out about the Baudelaires and now there was no hope. I let a few tears slide down my face and wanted to kick myself for crying over something I had done.

"Hey, boss!" I heard someone shout. The hook-handed man, I think. I perked my ears, curiously. "The orphans are here!"

What did he mean? Were the Baudelaires here? Did I not fail after all?

I heard an intake of breath and then, Gunther's voice. "Orphans in," he said, "Okay for orphans to be here, please." He paused and something must have happened during the time he was silent. "We'll skip lot #49 and move on to lot #50. We'll stop at item #51."

Maybe that was my lot. He was probably just trying to get to me as quickly as possible so we could leave. And go to that island where no one will find us…I shuddered at the thought. It reminded me of when we were staying at Uncle Monty's and Stephano tried to take us to Peru "…where crimes are more difficult to trace."

I shuddered again at the memory.

"V.F.D. please," Gunther said. "Who bid?"

I gasped. What could V.F.D. possibly be?

"I bid twenty," Jerome's voice called out.

"Fifty," someone else with a deeper voice said.

"Fifty-five," Jerome called. Why was Jerome bidding on V.F.D.?

"One hundred," said the other man.

"I bid one hundred eight," Jerome said.

"Two hundred."

"Two hundred and four," Jerome said.

"Three hundred."

There was a pause and then Gunther spoke. "Final bid is three hundred, please," Gunther said, "Please, sir, if—"

"Thousand!" a very familiar voice called and I knew right away it was Sunny. It brought relief mixed with confusion. Why was Sunny bidding on Lot #50? What was so important? Did they really think V.F.D. was more important than us? Or…

"Thousand!" Sunny shrieked again.

There was some murmuring and Sunny had to say it a third time before Gunther gave in.

"The highest bid is now one thousand," he said, "Please."

"Good grief!" I heard the other bidder cry, but I couldn't hear the rest of what he was saying since the crowd began to murmur again.

"It is to us," I heard Violet say and I knew they had advanced closer to the stage. I wanted so badly to yell or make some kind of noise so they would know I was in here. Maybe they were mad at the Quagmires and I for letting Gunther know their plan. But why on earth would they buy this item?

"Give your thousand, please, to Mrs. Squalor," Gunther said, probably to the Baudelaires. "Then we move to Lot #51, please."  
>"The only thing that is over," Klaus said, and my heart warmed at his voice. "is your horrible plan." As much as I liked hearing his voice, it didn't explain anything. How could V.F.D. ruin his plans? But maybe I should trust Klaus. He was so smart, he would figure it out. Then, it occurred to me, what if they were planning what the Quagmires and I have been? Did V.F.D. contain evidence to send Count Olaf to jail once and for all?<p>

"Silko!" Sunny shrieked in agreement. I heard a sound like cardboard being ripped apart and figured they were opening the item…whatever it was.

"Wait a minute, kids!" Esmé growled, "You can't open the box until you give me the money. That's illegal!"

"What is illegal," Klaus said, "is auctioning off children. And soon this whole room will see that you have broken the law!"

"What's this?" Mr. Poe asked, voicing one of the many questions that were pouring into my head right now.

"The Quagmire triplets and Jane Rumary are in this box," Violet explained, "Gunther and Esmé are trying to smuggle them out of the country."

That made my eyes widen. I'd been wrong for both reasons. The Baudelaires weren't angry with us and there certainly wasn't any evidence in that box. They were thought we were in that lot! They had the wrong lot! Oh no, oh no! This is all wrong and now they'll be in even more trouble! What if the authorities come and send them to prison for opening the item illegally? No, that couldn't happen. I had to do something or my friends' lives would be in jeopardy because I knew, if the authorities got them, Count Olaf wouldn't be too far behind.

I had to do something to prove that the Baudelaires were telling the truth so they wouldn't get into too much trouble. But what? There wasn't much I could do with my wrists bound and my mouth taped shut. And I knew I only had so much time.

The Baudelaires must have realized what I already knew because Violet suddenly cried, "These are doilies. This box is full of doilies!"

"Of course," the other bidder said. It was difficult to hear what he was saying. He was talking in such a low voice. "I was…my brother for a birthday present. They're Very Fancy Doilies. What else could V.F.D. stand for?"

I tried desperately to slide the ropes from my wrists but they were too tight. I hung my head in defeat. At that moment, I felt the statue being lifted for what felt like the umpteenth time. I fell to the side again and this time the metal cut deeper into my arm, drawing blood. I gasped in pain. It was so sharp. Sharp enough to cut things…like a rope.

"Yes," Gunther said, in a wicked voice, "What else could it stand for, please?"

My gasp in pain turned into one of realization. I could use the sharp edge of the metal to cut the rope.

"I don't know," I heard Violet reply, "but neither Jane or the Quagmires found out a secret about fancy napkins. Where have you put them, Olaf?"

"What is Olaf, please?" Gunther asked.

Quickly, I maneuvered my bound hands over the edge of the metal. I got it to grip the rope and tried to cut it as if I were slicing a tomato.

"Now, Violet," Jerome said, "We made an agreement not to argue about Gunther anymore. Please excuse these children, Gunther. I think they must be ill."

But it didn't work so I tried cutting it like a saw. I moved my wrists back and forth so the rope was slowly tore.

"We're not ill," Klaus cried, sounding frustrated. We've been tricked! This box of doilies was a red herring!"

"But the red herring was Lot #48," I heard someone in the crowd say.

And it was working. Not quickly, but it would have to do. The rope was thinning and soon I could slip my hands out. I moved my wrists back and forth, back and forth.

"Speaking of lots," Esmé said, and my statue was lowered to the ground, "here is Lot #51. Now, why don't you take these children home Jerome? We'll deal with them after the In Auction is over."

I felt the rope slip from my wrists, but I wasn't prepared. My wrists were still going and the sharp metal nicked my left wrist. A drop of blood appeared and my wrist was sore, but after a moment, it was old news to me. I reached up and closing my eyes, I tore the tape off my mouth, biting my tongue to stop myself from crying out. That wasn't a good way to get their attention.

"We're not going anywhere!" Violet cried, "Until we find out where Jane and the Quagmires are!"

Now that I was free, I knew I needed to get the attention of the crowd. I knew what would happen if I didn't. Either the Baudelaires would be in trouble with the authorities or Gunther and Esmé, or perhaps both.

"Children," Mr. Poe said, "I'm very shocked about your behavior. You look like you haven't washed in a week. You're spending your money on ridiculous items." And I knew very well that I might not be able to save myself. "You run around accusing everybody of being Count Olaf in disguise. And now you've made a big mess of doilies on the floor." That would mean Gunther would probably tell the Baudelaires what I did and I would lose them for forever. So I decided I needed to say goodbye again in the best way that I could. "Someone is likely to trip and fall on those slippery napkins. I would have thought that the Squalors were raising you better than this."

So I stood up, shakily, and began to sing:

"_Think of me,_

_Think of me fondly,_

_When we've said goodbye…_

_Remember me,_

_Every so often,_

_Promise me you'll try…_

_On that day,_

_That not so distant day,_

_When you are far away and free,_

_If you ever find a moment,_

_Spare a thought for me…"_

I made a small pause to listen for a reaction, but I heard nothing but, Esmé's voice. "…Mr. Poe, I want these terrible children placed out of my care. It's not worth it to have orphans, even if they're in."

I realized, that they couldn't hear me from inside here and that troubled me. I would have to try and sing it louder, but would it still be loud enough. Was this statue sound proof so that even the biggest sound would be muffled to the outside?

My mind wandered to the hole at the top of the mermaid. Maybe if I could get to the hole, I could sing through it. Maybe then, they would hear me.

"Esmé!" Jerome cried. "They lost their parents! Where else can they go?"

But how could I get up there? I was far too short. It frustrated me and I felt my wrist start to become sore again. I glanced at those metal pieces, frowning. But then, I realized that maybe these strange metal pieces could be of even more help.

"Don't argue with me!" Esmé spat, "I'll tell you where they can go! They can go—"

"With me, please," Gunther said. I shuddered and hurriedly, climbed on to the first metal piece.

"_And although it's true,_

_Though it was always true,_

_That this was never meant to be._

_If you happen to remember,_

_Stop and think of me."_

I could hear Gunther continuing talking, but there was an edge to his voice and I think he could kind of hear me. So I climbed onto the highest metal piece. The tip of my nose just reached the mouthpiece and I stood on my tiptoes until my mouth reached it. "I am loving of the children. I would be happy, please, to raise three children of my own. Oh, and of course, please, little Jane will join us, please. Now—"

"_Think of August,_

_When the trees were green,_

_Don't think about,_

_The way things might have been…"_

I knew the crowd could hear me because they were gasping and falling into silence to listen.

"_Think of me,_

_Think of me waking,_

_Silent and resigned…_

_Imagine me,_

_Trying too hard to,_

_Put you from my mind…_

_Think of me,_

_Please say you'll think of me,_

_Whatever else you choose to do._

_There will never be a day when,_

_I won't think of you…"_

I stopped singing and waited for the reaction. I hadn't anticipated what would happen afterwards. I only knew it would show that the Baudelaires were partially correct. But all I heard was silence.

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><p><strong>BTW, the song was 'Think of Me' from the Phantom of the Opera :) it's such a pretty song! <strong>

**Anyways...REVIEW as always!**

**And thanks to everyone who has been reviewing so far! The next chapter will probably be the last for the TEE part :)**

**I'll try to update soon!**


	11. The Aftermath

**Here's a new chapter and i'm both happy and sad to say that it's the last one for TEE! :) **

**As always, R&R and Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: The Aftermath<strong>

All I heard was silence and then, there was an eruption of noise as people gasped and wondered where the voice came from. But one voice in particular stuck out the most to me.

"It's Jane!" Klaus cried, "Jane! Jane! You're in here!"

I heard a click and the door at the back of the mermaid near the bottom was opened. Klaus stuck his hand through and I hopped down from the metal pieces to climb out.

"Klaus!" I exclaimed. I was immediately enveloped into a hug that knocked the breath out of me. Klaus pulled back after a moment and grimaced when he saw my hurt cheeks.

"Jane, it's you," Violet said, in relief, and I felt her arms wrap around me.

"Delado!" Sunny cried, which probably meant, "I'm so glad you're safe."

"Where are the Quagmires?" Violet asked.

"They're not in here," I said, frowning. "I'm not sure where they are, they were in some red—"

A hand closed over my mouth. I looked up into Esmé's sapphire blue eyes. They were twinkling, daring me to say another word.

"Let's not get carried away, Jane," Esmé said, "The Quagmires aren't here. They've been kidnapped, remember?"

"That still doesn't explain why a child was inside that item," Mr. Poe said, striding towards the stage, "especially, Jane Rumary, who was supposed to be under your care."

"I put her in, please," Gunther said, moving over to me. He put a hand on my shoulder and Esmé removed her hand from my mouth. "Forgive me, please. Jane want to make big surprise at In Auction, please. So I had big idea to hide her in the item, please. I tell Jane to start singing, please, and then, come out to surprise everyone, please. But the door must have jammed, please, so it wouldn't work, please. Isn't that right Jane, please?"

His scraggly hand squeezed my shoulder, a little too tightly.

I sighed, knowing it was useless to try and escape. Besides, I had only been trying to help the Baudelaires. "Yes," I said, "that's right. We meant no harm. It was just for fun."

"No it wasn't," Klaus argued, "Jane was kidnapped by Gunther and he was going to auction her off just like the Quagmires."

"Klaus, this is no time for nonsense like that," Mr. Poe said, "How can we believe you after everything you've done already?"

"Gunther didn't _kidnap_ Jane," Esmé said, stopping to glare angrily at Klaus, "Jane stayed with Gunther for a few days until the In Auction. Jane wanted to stay with Gunther to learn more about how to be in because she just loves being fashionable, but she wasn't given the opportunity to be when her parents tragically died. Unlike you, Jane is a good orphan. Can you imagine her pain? Having to go through life without being able to follow the latest trends because she couldn't afford clothes?" Esmé paused and the crowd murmured to each other. They sounded like they were taking pity on me like Esmé wanted. "And orphans are indeed in so Jane should've been able to have in clothing and furniture, right? Which is why, I decided to make her the innest orphan in the world." The crowd was eagerly listening to Esmé, and when she said that, they cheered. Esmé silenced them and continued, "Do you know why that is?"

Esmé turned her twinkling eyes on the Baudelaires and then her gaze went back to me. She patted my head.

"I love this little girl enough that I decided to allow Gunther to adopt her as a present for hosting the In Auction," Esmé announced, "We didn't tell Jane yet, because we wanted to surprise her, but the papers have been signed and everything. Is that right Mr. Poe?"

"That's right," Mr. Poe said.

"And here they are," Esmé said, pulling a file out of her purse, "Jane's adoption papers, presented to Gunther."

She handed them to Gunther, whose eyes were gleaming. Those eyes flashed to me, making me take a startled step back when I saw his fury underneath. The crowd applauded.

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny's eyes were widened in horror.

"No," Violet cried, "You can't. Gunther isn't who he says he is, he's Count Olaf!"

"My sister's right," Klaus said. He stepped forward and took my hand. He pulled me away from Gunther who didn't try to grab me back or anything. "He's not Gunther and he's trying to get away with stealing Jane's fortune."

"Why would Gunther steal?" Esmé said, "Stealing is out, and Gunther is the innest auctioneer in the world."

"No he's not!" Klaus spat angrily at Esmé. I gripped his arm tightly in case he tried to take a swing at her. "Look at her, Mr. Poe. Look at Jane. Her face, it's covered in bruises and scratches. Look at her arms and legs. Jane has been beaten badly and Esmé just told us she's been spending a few days with Gunther. So who else could have done it?" Tears were in his voice. "Mr. Poe, don't let Count Olaf take her away again. Don't let him hurt her again. Please!"

"Jane does have quite a lot of bruises," Mr. Poe said, "I don't think I can allow Jane to be taken care of by someone who harms her."

"But you sign the paper, please," Gunther said, "I mean no harm to sweet girl, please." He reached a scraggly hand out to pinch my cheek. I shuddered. "Right, Jane?"

"Right," I said, nodding, "These bruises were just accidents. I fall a lot, clumsy me."

"Now, enough chit chat," Esmé said, "We're wasting time. The In Auction is over now. And now Gunther will be taking Jane home. I'll walk you to the car to say goodbye."

"Wonderful, please!" Gunther said, and grabbed my arm. He began to tow me along with him.

"No," Klaus grabbed my other arm, "Jane isn't going anywhere. Especially, not with you."

"Klaus, let go of Jane," Mr. Poe said, "she wants to live with Gunther now and I agreed that she could."

"But—" Klaus started.

"You may visit girl soon, please, little boy," Gunther said, "Now, come, Jane. No time to waste, please. Many important things to do, please."

I was being towed away again, but Klaus was still grasping my hand and pulled back.

"She's staying here!" he cried, desperately, "You're not taking Jane away from us again, you monster!"

"Klaus!" Mr. Poe gasped, "It is very rude to speak to Gunther that way."

Gunther pulled on my other arm, but Klaus had pulled at the same time. Gunther's foot had landed on a doily and slid forward. He fell, his boots falling off his bare feet. Klaus pulled me over to him, enveloping me into another hug. When Olaf stood up, everyone's eyes were glued to his feet.

"Look!" a man who was wearing sunglasses said. "The auctioneer isn't wearing any socks! That's not very polite!"

"And look!" someone else said, "He has a doily stuck between two of his toes! That's not very comfortable!"

"And look!" Jerome said. "He has a tattoo of an eye on his ankle! He's not Gunther!"

"He's not an auctioneer!" Mr. Poe cried, "He's not even a foreigner! He's Count Olaf!"

"He's more than Count Olaf," Esmé said, walking over to Count Olaf. "He's a genius! He's a wonderful acting teacher! And he's the handsomest, innest man in town!"

"Don't be absurd!" Jerome said. "Ruthless kidnapping villains aren't in!"

"You're right," Count Olaf said. He tossed away his monocle and put his arm around Esmé. "We're not in. We're out—out of the city! Come on, Esmé!"

In one swift movement, Olaf shoved Klaus away, causing him to stumble backwards, and then, he easily grabbed me, threw me over his shoulder, and started for the door with Esmé beside us. It all happened so fast that I barely had time to catch my breath.

"Jane!" Klaus cried. He had jumped off of the stage and was coming after us, followed by Violet and Sunny. The adults lumbered around behind them, slipping on doilies and getting in a complicated mess.

"Klaus!" I called back, reaching a hand out.

"We're coming Jane!" Violet said.

"Listen," I said, "V.F.D. doesn't mean Very Fancy Doilies, it means—"

Olaf's scraggly hand closed over my mouth so it came out all muffled. We were reaching the doors to Veblen Hall and Esmé flung them open. The Baudelaires were desperately trying to reach us, but they were a little behind because of their height disadvantages. You would think that carrying a ten-year-old girl might slow someone down at least a little bit, but I seemed to not make much of a difference.

"The hook-handed man!" Klaus hollered. I spun my head around and saw I was headed for a big black pickup truck. The hook-handed man was at the wheel, which must have been kind of difficult for him. "He was right under our noses the entire time!"

We reached the bottom of the stairs and I was handed off to Esmé who carried me over to the pickup truck.

"Jane!" I heard Klaus cry and could see the Baudelaires were now on the steps.

"V.F.D.!" I shouted, "It stands for V—"

Esmé clamped a hand over my mouth just as Olaf had done before she shoved me into the passenger seat. She slammed the door shut and the locks clicked. I glanced over and saw the hook-handed man giving me a toothy grin.

"What did you do this time, blondie?" he sneered.

I ignored him and turned my attention to what was going on outside.

Count Olaf was facing the Baudelaires and was saying something to them. "He might have been right under your noses," he growled, "but soon he will be at your throats. I'll be back, Baudelaires! Soon the Quagmire sapphires and Jane's fortune will be mine, but I haven't forgotten about your fortune! Meanwhile, I have a new bratty daughter to deal with!"

"Don't you hurt her!" Klaus cried and I've never seen him look angrier.

"Or what bookworm?" Olaf taunted, his eyes gleaming. "Are you going to sing us all a song too?"

Klaus fumed but didn't say anything.

"Gonope?" Sunny shrieked.

"Where are Duncan and Isadora?" Violet translated, "Where have you taken them?"

Olaf and Esmé glanced at each other and began laughing. Esmé slipped inside the car as she gestured to the back of the truck with Lot #48 inside said, "We used two red herrings to fool you."

"The Quagmires!" Violet cried, "Olaf has trapped them inside that statue!"

"I might have," Olaf said, "but when I tell you about what Jane did, that might not seem so terrible."

"What are you talking about?" Klaus spat, "Jane didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh, really?" Olaf sneered. I covered my eyes, knowing what was to come. "How do you think you ended up in that net? Of course, as soon as I came to put the orphans in their items, Jane confessed to me about your plans. If it weren't for her, you might've been able to rescue the Quagmires on time."

"You're lying," Violet said, "Jane would never do that to us."

Count Olaf just shrugged as he got into the car. I had to sit on Esmé's lap for there to be room. It made me very uncomfortable.

"Toodle-oo!" Esmé called to the Baudelaires who looked devastated as the hook-handed man drove the pickup truck around the corner and they disappeared from my sight. A few tears escaped and I tried to block out the sounds of their villainous laughter. But their laughter pricked me with a new sense of fear when I realized I had no idea where Olaf would be taking us next.

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><p><strong>Review! And thanks to those who have been reviewing :)<strong>

**TVV will be posted in this same story as i mentioned before so keep your eyes open for any updates sometime soon :) I'm really excited for the next few stories because the books take such a turn and so will my fic!**


	12. TVV: Endless Chores

**Hey everyone! Here's the first chapter of TVV! :) **

**R&R please! And of course, Enjoy!**

**Summary:** Jane has been kidnapped yet again by Count Olaf as well as the villainous, Esmé Squalor, but at least she has the Quagmires to talk to. As they make new discoveries, will it only lead to more mysteries? And is Monty Kensicle really who he says he is? But Jane's troubles in the city won't interfere with Count Olaf's new plan to snatch the Baudelaire fortune and possibly destroy an old enemy. Will Jane be able to keep Olaf away from the Baudelaires again?

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Endless Chores<strong>

The car pulled into the fern covered drive in front of the most terrifying house I've ever seen. I remembered every detail of this disgusting house from my last visit and I shuddered as I recalled the rats and grime I had had to deal with. But I also remembered my secret ladder and my only shred of hope, Monty Kensicle. I was hoping Olaf would be away from the house as often as he was the last time so I could meet up with him right away. There were so many things I'd like to ask him now that the secret of V.F.D. was present in my life. I also wanted to discuss the plan the Quagmires and I came up with during our time in the cage underneath 667 Dark Avenue.

I shuddered as I recalled that dark and dreary place. It felt nice to be out in the daylight. The drive from the upper east side of the city to this suburban neighborhood in Brooklyn had taken quite some time. Mostly because after driving five blocks, Olaf and Esmé wanted to ditch the pickup truck and take the city bus. They disguised themselves, stuffed me into a suitcase and the Quagmires into an instrument case, before they boarded the bus. After a bit, we were transported from the bus to Olaf's long, black car that had been waiting for us with the bald man inside. The Quagmires and I were stuffed in the back with him and the hook-handed man who entertained himself by demonstrating how easily his hooks could hurt me by poking holes in the seat.

Finally, we reached our destination and although it was disgusting and dilapidated, I've never been more relieved that Count Olaf took us here. I was afraid he would stick to his plan to sneak us out of the country to that island, but apparently, that plan would have only worked if the Baudelaires were in his clutches too.

Olaf stopped the car signaling that it was time to get out. We entered the house and the bald man was instructed by Count Olaf to 'take care' of the Quagmires with the hook-handed man. Esmé went upstairs to start unpacking her belongings.

"You stay put," Olaf said to me before I could head up the stairs to my usual bedroom. I had left a suitcase full of most of my belongings here and I was hoping to put on something other than this pinstripe suit that I was still wearing. I glanced up at Olaf and saw his eyes glowing with that anger I'd seen at the In Auction. I moved away from the stairs and hung my head as I waited nervously for what I knew would come.

When we were alone, Count Olaf glowered at me again.

"So you've messed up my plans yet again," he grumbled, "I should've wrapped you up in duct tape so maybe then, you wouldn't have found a way to escape."

"Technically, I didn't do anything—"

"I'm not finished," Olaf growled. "As I was saying, I'm not at all happy with what you did and I even considered cutting out your tongue. I just can't seem to figure out why. What did I not make clear enough for you to understand?" I didn't answer. "You're lucky I at least got the Quagmires and you in my clutches or I might have done something very bad to you. But I didn't get the Baudelaires in my clutches, which is very disappointing."

"You trapped my friends in a net," I said, "and they needed my help. I had to prove they weren't lying so they wouldn't get hurt. And I don't intend to stop defending the Baudelaires either."

"Really?" Olaf sneered, his eyes gleaming.

"You should know that by now," I added.

"I knew a girl who was just like you," Olaf said, "she was too brave for her own good, always sticking up for people and such, do you know what happened to her?" Olaf leaned forward and whispered, "She was_ killed_." My eyes widened and I knew my sudden fear was the cause for the wicked smile he gave me in return. Then, he stood up straight again. "Now, go clean the house and you're not allowed to rest until it's spotless. Also, you aren't going to be receiving any dinner tonight and I'll make sure your friends won't smuggle some for you."

Olaf handed me a bucket and a mop before leaving. I got started, feeling very tired and hungry. I hadn't had much to eat since I was taken into Olaf's clutches again. I had at least had some water in between them, but it wasn't enough. I felt so drained.

I just hoped the Baudelaires were doing okay. I wondered if they would stay with Jerome or be sent to live with a new guardian. I guess it didn't matter, as long as they were safe from Count Olaf for the time being. I recalled my earlier words about how I would always stick up for them. I realized how true that was. I know it would only lead me into trouble, but I owed the Baudelaires so much. They've done so much for me and I care about them, of course. I'd never been closer to anyone and I wasn't about to lose that. What concerned me, was whether they still believed I was on their side. After Olaf let them know I 'confessed' the Baudelaires plan to rescue us from the cage in 667 Dark Avenue, I had been hoping they wouldn't believe everything he said.

I continued mopping the floors and cleaning the house until it was as spotless as it could get, well, except for the tower room, which I was still forbidden to enter. When I finally finished cleaning, it was very late and so I was way too tired to care when I saw some kind of bird-like creature perched outside of the bedroom window.

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><p>The next morning, I met up with the Quagmires and we were fortunate to find some oatmeal waiting for us for breakfast. I devoured my portion, despite it being bland and soggy, and it filled my stomach.<p>

"How are you?" I asked after we finished eating. We had been too hungry to say much before and I was honestly concerned for how they were coping.

"We're fine, I guess," Isadora said, "but what about you? Olaf did sound angry yesterday. Did he hurt you again?"

"No," I said, "Fortunately, I'm fine. But I'm pretty sure he's going to give me double chores because of it."

"What did you do?" Duncan asked.

I explained to them everything that had happened. I started from when Olaf found out about the Baudelaires plan to the In Auction and how I had the idea to sing in order to prove that the Baudelaires were telling the truth. The Quagmires were interested to hear about my involvement at the In Auction.

"That makes sense," Duncan said, "but I think it was very good of you to do. Now, we'll know the Baudelaires are safe, at least for now."

"I'm relieved Olaf didn't take us out of the country," Isadora said, "I was so scared."

"Me too," I said, and then, lowered my voice, "and at least now we'll be able to go see…you know…" The Quagmires nodded, knowing I meant Monty Kensicle.

"And now we can carry out our own plan," Duncan added in a whisper. I nodded, remembering our plan to gather valid evidence.

"We just need to acquire a camera," I whispered back, "I'm sure Monty has one we can use."

Before we could continue our conversation, Count Olaf entered the kitchen with his arm looped around Esmé Squalor's shoulder.

"Morning orphans," Count Olaf muttered, "I just came to give Jane her chores for today." Esmé handed me a long piece of paper that reached all the way to the ground. On it was a long list of chores. I gaped.

"Don't forget the ones on the back," Esmé said, "they're the more important ones."

I turned it over and found another long list. I've never had this many chairs, not even when I was living at the Ontario Boarding School for Girls.

"Now, you'd better get started," Olaf said, "no more meals until you've finished them all. By yourself."

I frowned and went off to the backyard to start my first chore. My first chore was to pick up all of the sticks on the property. So I grabbed a few buckets to take with me. I found this mundane task to be very infuriating and tiresome. There were so many sticks, especially since a forest lingered just a short distance away. I wondered idly if the rest of the chores were going to be as pointless as this. After what felt like hours of picking up sticks, I finally filled seven large buckets of them. I stared at the buckets, not really knowing what I was supposed to do with all of these sticks now. So I decided to dump them all in the forest.

I carried two buckets at a time just a little ways inside the forest until I had all seven there. I started dumping the buckets onto the forest floor until there was a large pile of sticks. I'm sure these forest animals would be able to find a better use for these sticks. As I was beginning to leave the forest, I heard a strange noise. My eyes shifted to the trees and I stumbled back when I saw a grey speckled owl perched on one of the branches above me. It was staring at me with saucer-like eyes, unblinking. My head spun in confusion. Weren't owls nocturnal? My foggy memory of last night recalled something bird-like perched outside my window. Could it have been this owl?

Feeling a little uncomfortable under the animal's intense stare, I started to make my way from the forest. When I was a comfortable distance away, I searched for the owl again. But there was nothing there. The owl was gone.

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	13. Monty Kensicle

**Hey readers! Here's a new chapter :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Monty Kensicle<strong>

It wasn't until the next day when Olaf and Esmé finally left the house. The hook-handed man was watching us today. I wasn't given many chores today and stayed in my bedroom, out of his way. The Quagmires and I waited until we could hear his snores before they crept across the hall from the room they were staying in to my bedroom.

We didn't want to waste time so we quickly stuffed some of the rocks that had been placed in my room under the sheets of my tiny bed. We did our best to make it look like I was hiding under the covers before we climbed down my secret ladder. I was happy to know that it still worked as perfectly as it did before. I dropped to the ground first and hurried down the street until the house was out of sight. The Quagmires were hurrying along beside me and then; they began to lead the way to where Monty Kensicle usually met with them.

The townhouse we stopped in front of had a small front yard that was in need of a trim. A sign that said it was for sale was driven into the ground. The house itself was made of brick and was quite small. The shades were down on every window so no one could see inside and no light could get in.

The Quagmires led me around the front of the house and to a wooden fence at the side, which we climbed over. It brought us to a small porch in the back. The Quagmires went up to the glass sliding doors that had been sealed with something black. They softly knocked on the door.

After waiting a moment, we heard a lock click and the sliding doors were drawn back. A tall man wearing a wide brimmed hat over his eyes peeked out at us with tired eyes. I smiled when I realized this man was Monty Kensicle.

"Oh, what a relief it is to see you," he said, "Come in."

The Quagmires stepped inside and I came in behind them, studying the small kitchen that was behind the sliding doors.

"Jane?" Monty Kensicle asked when he saw me, looking startled. I knew it was partially because of the bruises that still lingered on my skin. "You're in Olaf's clutches again?" As he said Olaf, he grimaced as if he had tasted sour milk.

I nodded, glumly. "I tried to stay away, but Esmé fooled me into thinking she was a good guardian," I said, "I'm sorry, I should've been more careful."

"Don't apologize," Monty Kensicle said, "And did you say Esmé as in Esmé Squalor?"

The Quagmires and I nodded simultaneously. "She helped Count Olaf auction us off at the In Auction. Count Olaf disguised himself as—"

"Gunther," Monty Kensicle finished, "I know that much. I was mostly following the Baudelaires tracks, but I thought you would be with them. What exactly happened?"

"It's a very long story," I said. I remembered my light blue notebook and pulled it out of my pocket. "And it's all written in here. Including everything that happened at Prufrock Prepatory School. I wrote everything down like you told me to do."

Monty Kensicle took the notebook from my hands and turned to a page. He skimmed it and then grimaced

"This is awful," he muttered, "I don't mean your writing, of course. You were really pushed down an elevator shaft?"

I nodded. "It was really scary."

"I can imagine," Monty Kensicle said, "Why don't you all sit down, and I'll make you something to eat? You look like you haven't eaten much."

"I've been limited to one meal a day," I muttered as I sat down at the wooden kitchen table. Isadora sat down beside me and Duncan took the seat beside her. "Mostly, because of what I did at the In Auction."

"I'm sorry about that," Monty Kensicle said as he began to fry some eggs on the stove. "I wish there was something I could do to help you. But maybe I'll have to settle with providing you with a meal whenever you're in need."

He finished making us some eggs served with toast. We ate while he pulled out his own black journal that had a rough draft of what happened to us at Prufrock Prep and an almost finished draft of what happened at the Squalors. He began comparing my journal entries to his own accounts.

He turned a page and started jotting down what he was missing. I watched as his hand moved swiftly across the page. That was when something caught my eye. At the top of the page, an address was written in crisp letters. It said:

_Rhetoric Building_

_Floor 13; Room 13_

_12, Doldrum Drive_

_Brooklyn, NY_

I furrowed my eyebrows at the address. What did rhetoric mean? I think I heard about it somewhere, but I couldn't remember its meaning. I think it had to do with writing. Maybe it was a place where Monty published the books he wrote about our lives. I shrugged it off. It probably wasn't that important anyways.

"What's this?" Monty Kensicle asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. He was pointing to a page in my notebook. Our conversation about V.F.D. and our plan was written down there.

"We decided that we should do our best to create more reliable evidence," Duncan explained. "As you can see from the entry, Jane realized that the fire at Prufrock Prep, Dr. Montgomery Montgomery's home, and at the New York Boarding School might be linked. Olaf might be trying to cover up his tracks by committing arson, though he might not have directly started the fires. His associates could've done it for him so he could spend time figuring out how to get Jane and the Baudelaires in his clutches. It may also be because he wouldn't necessarily be blamed for them, he could easily convince people that he had no part in it at all."

"We thought that if Olaf's trying to cover up his tracks, then maybe we need to find ways to stop him from erasing all the evidence," Isadora added, "Although these books could be used as evidence, they might not be enough if we ever have the chance to prove to a jury that Olaf has committed these crimes. We don't want Olaf to be given the chance to find a way to sway the jury to think he's innocent."

"So we need evidence that is solid," I continued, "we were thinking things like videos, photos, or recordings."

"That's all very interesting findings," Monty Kensicle said, and I saw a hint that he was already aware that Olaf was covering his tracks. "But this is very dangerous to do and I don't know if I should let you. Jane seems to have gotten into enough trouble already and I don't want to see any of you covered in bruises."

"Do you know how we can get our hands on a video camera or something like that?" I asked, ignoring Monty's disagreement.

"I'm sorry but I can't help you with that," he said, "as I said, it's much too dangerous."

"We don't care," I said, "Besides, I'm fine. We really need to get this evidence, though."

"It might even benefit you too," Duncan said, "Olaf told us all about the many crimes that he framed you for. We could collect evidence to prove your innocence."

"Even if you proved I wasn't responsible for those crimes, I'd still be a guilty man," Monty Kensicle said, gravely.

"Please," I said, "you're our only hope."

Monty Kensicle drew out a long breath. "All right," he said, finally, "if it means that much to you, I guess I could help. But please promise me you'll be very careful. Whatever you do."

We nodded. "We will," Isadora said.

Monty Kensicle pursed his lips. "Someone once told me that all those paintings with the eyes have a much bigger purpose than to serve as a…decoration," he said, "She said they might me…peep holes…I've never put any investigation into it since the thought of entering that man's house repulses me, but he has them all over the house. It's probably how he keeps an eye on you three."

"So he spies on us?" I said, disgusted, "Oh, and there's one in my bedroom." I grimaced feeling suddenly as if I were being watched right now.

"Yes," Monty said, "it's revolting to think about, but some of them might contain cameras."

"And the footage could possibly come in handy to us," Duncan finished.

"What are you suggesting?" Isadora asked, "How could that help us?"

"Because," I said, "if we could get a hold of even one of those camera's we might be able to find the evidence we're looking for."

"I also was told the cameras are all controlled by a device somewhere private," Monty Kensicle added.

"Like his tower room," I said.

"Exactly," Monty Kensicle said. "And if you want this footage…"

The Quagmires and I exchanged glances as we all came to the same conclusion. "Then, we'll have to steal it," I said.

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	14. The Tower

**Here's a new chapter everyone! :) Enjoy! **

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: The Tower<strong>

It took us a few days before we felt confident about our plan. Well, I wouldn't say we were confident it would succeed, we just accepted that it was our only chance. Finally, we would be able to use Olaf's despicable ways to our advantage. After spending a few days debating whether we should follow through with our plan, we waited until Olaf and Esmé were out of the house again. The bald man was on duty now, but we hoped he wouldn't be too much trouble to get past.

The Quagmires snuck over to my room again. We started first, by covering up the painting of an eye that hung in my room.

"We should probably do this right away," Duncan said, "we don't know when they'll be back and we don't want to waste any time."

"I'm so scared," Isadora said, "what if we get caught?"

"We won't," I said, firmly, "we just have to act quickly. Let's go."

We walked out into the hallway and nearly crashed into the bald man.

"Watch it you three," he barked at us, "I was told by Olaf to watch you incase you were up to anything…suspicious so I suggest you behave. Especially you Blondie, you don't want any more bruises do you? If it were my choice, I would've killed you a long time ago. Now scram orphans and don't bother me again."

We sighed and headed back into my bedroom, closing the door behind us. We waited until we thought he was gone to open the door again.

"What did I tell you?" the bald man growled from where he was sitting, which was right across the hall. "Get back in that room. As long as I'm in charge, it's where you'll stay unless you want to get into trouble."

Disappointed, we went back into the room again.

"How are we going to get past him?" Isadora asked. "He looks like he's going to guard this door all day long."

I sighed heavily and sat down on my bed. "Maybe we'll have to wait for him to fall asleep or something."

"But that's a slim possibility," Duncan said, "We need to get in the tower room today. Who knows when we'll get another chance?"

"Maybe what we need is a distraction," Isadora said, "we need to lure him away from the door. Two of us could go up there."

"I guess that means I should distract him," I said, "I could just start singing again."

"No, no, I'll do it," Isadora said, "you've gotten in enough trouble already. We don't exactly want to see anymore bruises on you either, for a different reason of course."

"Either way, I'll be risking punishment," I muttered.

"I know," Duncan said, "but at least this time, you won't be the only one."

I nodded, but I knew I'd never allow the Quagmires to get hurt the way I did.

"So that leaves me to be a distraction," Isadora said, "and you and Duncan can search his tower. But what can I do?"

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><p>Isadora left the room and we could hear her reciting couplets to the bald man. This seemed to irritate him as we expected. Then, we heard Isadora break into a run and race down the stairs, the bald man chased after her.<p>

"Let's go," Duncan said. We slipped out of the bedroom and into the hall.

I led the way to the stairs. Duncan followed, a look of fear on his face. I was scared too, I admit, but I knew I shouldn't show it. It would only make this plan seem like a terrible idea—more so than it already was—and I might chicken out. I didn't want to give the Quagmires a reason to either.

We reached the stairs, and climbed them slowly, with caution—For every time we moved to the next stair, it would creak and we had to pause to see if the bald man had heard or not. Eventually, we reached the top of the staircase and I took a deep breath in before pushing open the door to Count Olaf's tower room. Where I was forbidden to be. Duncan followed me hesitantly inside.

"One of us should stand by the door just in case," I suggested.

"I'll do it," Duncan said, taking out his dark green notebook, "let me know what you find and I'll write some notes down in here. That way we can remember them."

"Great," I said, as I scanned the awful, disgusting looking room. Thanks to Esme, it looked a little cleaner than it would have been but empty wine bottles were scattered all over the floor. A dirty shoe sat in the middle of the floor, looking like it would give even someone with the cleanest feet a wart or some kind of infection. The floor was covered in stacks of paper and an assortment of different objects. I noticed a copy of a book called Nuptial Law sitting amongst the objects. I remember Klaus telling me about Olaf's plan to marry Violet and how he had stayed up all night reading that book until he was able to figure out Count Olaf's plan.

On the walls hung many paintings of eyes that stared back at us hungrily. Across the room, a large, open window allowed a chilly breeze to come in. I remember Violet told me she had once climbed up the tower to try and rescue Sunny from a cage during the time they were living here. As I stared out the window, it made me realize just how brave she was.

"Where could the control panel be?" Duncan asked, waking me from my thoughts.

I spun around looking all around the room, studying the paintings carefully. I stopped when I caught sight of the biggest painting. It was slightly slanted, as were most of the paintings, but I had a gut feeling that it was important. I stood on my tiptoes and got so close that my nose almost touched it. I noticed on the painting, was a hole where the pupil should be. It looked so obvious now and I wondered why I hadn't realized it earlier.

I gripped the sides of the painting.

"Duncan?" I said, "Can you help me lift this please?"

Duncan put his commonplace book back in his pocket and helped me lift the painting off of the hook. We placed it on the ground near our feet. I looked up expecting to see a control panel, but all I saw was the obsolete wooden wall. Then, I noticed an even smaller hole on the wooden plank that had rested behind the painting.

Placing my hand against the rough wooden plank, I stood on my tiptoes again so I could try peeking through the hole. But I lost my balance, and leaned harder against the wooden board. It wriggled slightly and I tried pushing harder. The board moved slightly inwards. Then, with Duncan's help, we pulled the wooden board out and laid it on the ground next to the painting.

And there it was; some kind of lens.

"A camera lens," Duncan concluded, though we both already knew what it was.

I noticed underneath the lens was a small screen that looked like it worked like a monitor, though the screen at the moment was blank. And below that were a few compartments. I opened one and found a memory card in it and the compartment below…had rolls of film.

We glanced at each other with wide eyes.

"Do you think there are photos of…us on those?" Duncan asked, nervously.

I swallowed. "I-I think so…" Although we had already come to discover this from Monty Kensicle, it didn't make it any easier to see it for ourselves.

"This is awful," Duncan said, looking angry. "We need to stop this. Here, take some evidence." He started to take out some of the rolls of film.

"No, Duncan," I grabbed the rolls from him, "Count Olaf will notice they're missing if we took them all…but maybe we could take just one…there are quite a few in here. And we can take this roll to be developed and then return the roll later."

As I finished speaking, we heard the front door close. We stiffened. Count Olaf's footsteps echoed loudly in our ears.

"Where are the orphans?" we heard him say.

"Don't worry about them," Esmé said, "you've been working so hard lately, you need to just relax."

"I guess you're right," Count Olaf said, and we heard a wet noise like they were kissing that made both of us cringe.

"How can we hear them so clearly?" Duncan asked, his voice so quiet I could barely hear him.

We glanced at each other as we both realized the same thing.

"Hurry," I said, urgently, "we need to put everything back and get out of here before they see."

He hardly needed my warning, though because they were already helping me put the board back into place as well as the painting. As we did so, something fell out of one of the many compartments. I looked down and saw that it was a photo.

"Come on, Jane," Duncan said, "hurry."

"Go on ahead," I said, "I just have to check something."

"Please don't take too long," he said and hurried from the room.

I picked up the photograph and studied the picture. In the photo was a young woman in a white wedding gown. Her blonde hair was pulled neatly out of her face and she wore a bright smile. She was posing next to a well-built man with dark hair. He was wearing a black suit and was smiling. Any one could see they were truly happy. As I looked more closely at them, my head began to spin, my mouth gaping open. For I realized I knew the people in this photo. It triggered something in my memory, something that had been long forgotten.

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><p><em>**Flashback**<em>

_The lake was crystal clear and it stretched out before me. I was sitting on a wooden dock and all I could think about was those pretty flowers I had seen in the lake before. I stood up with shaky legs, and took a few small steps towards them. My tiny hands reached out in front of me to grab one. But as I did, I suddenly lost my balance. My legs moved from beneath me and I nearly crashed into the cold water, but someone caught me._

_"Careful, sweetheart," a gentle voice said from behind me. I looked up to meet the bright blue eyes of my mother. I always loved them because they reminded me of the ocean. The rest of her face was blurry, but I knew it was pretty. "Don't go too close to the edge."_

_I wanted to listen to her, but I also wanted the flower. I reached my hand out toward them again._

_"Do you want a flower?" she asked._

_As an answer, I kept reaching for them._

_"I'll get it, Abbie," the deep voice of my father came from the edge of the dock. His dark hair was soon wet as he jumped into the lake to retrieve a flower for me. "Here you go." He placed the flower in my hands, his face blurred too except for his dark green eyes. "Now, don't drop it."_

_I stared at the flower with so much curiosity._

_"It's called a lily," my mother explained, "It's beautiful, isn't it? Just like you, sweetheart."_

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><p>I squeezed my eyes shut, as the rest of my memory of that day was too blurry to remember. Tears filled my eyes. This was the only photo I've ever seen of them—of my parents.<p>

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**I know the chapters for this story have been kind of short so far, but the next chapter will be much longer :)**


	15. Nothing

**Here's a new chapter! R&R please!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Nothing<strong>

"I just know your plan will work this time," I heard Esmé say.

That snapped me back to reality. I wiped my eyes and stuffed the photo inside my pocket.

"Of course it will," Count Olaf boasted. Their voices floated up from downstairs, "those foolish villagers will be completely fooled by our disguises and convinced that the Baudelaires are terrible children. Then, I'll convince them to hand the orphans over to me."

I heard footsteps and I knew they were headed up here. I heard a door open. I left the room and stood on the platform at the top of the stairs. I began to silently climb down the stairs, hoping I could sneak past them. But I froze when I saw them with Duncan who was in my bedroom.

"What were you doing in there, boy?" Olaf growled at Duncan below.

"Um, Jane isn't feeling very well," I could hear Duncan say, "She says it's her stomach." I held my breath, hoping they would believe him.

"Gross," Esmé said, "Sick orphans are definitely not in. She better hope that I don't get sick."

"Let's go, then," Olaf said, "the twin can deal with Blondie."

Still holding my breath, I raced back up the two stairs I had climbed down. I was a little relieved to know Duncan had the film. I hurried into the tower room, remembering to close the door behind me. I could hear them climbing the stairs and I looked frantically around for a place to hide. I found my best option was the closet that was right beside the big painting of an eye. I left the door open slightly so I could see what was going on and buried myself amongst the heaps of unfortunately filthy clothes. I listened carefully as Esmé and Olaf entered the room.

"When do we begin your ingenious plan?" Esmé asked.

"In just a few days," Count Olaf said, "I want to get this over with as soon as we can. The quicker, the better. We just have to make sure Blondie doesn't mess up our plans again."

They were in the room now, standing noticeably close to each other. I shuddered.

"Hopefully, that illness she has is deadly," Esmé said.

Count Olaf laughed, cruelly. "I do too," he said, "but we can't let the girl die, or we won't get her fortune."

"Right," Esmé said.

"But," Olaf continued, "I think I'll be able to keep her from interfering. We just need to separate her from the twins. I want Jane somewhere where I can personally keep an eye on her while we're there."

He took a step back and then looked down at the floor. Something caught his eye. "What is this doing out?" He picked up a photograph. When I saw the picture through the crack in the closet door, I checked my pockets. I almost died when I found them empty except for my notebook and photograph of the Baudelaires and I. "Did you take this out?" He showed it to Esmé.

"Of course not," Esmé said, "I had no idea you had that. And you know I can't stand to be reminded of them. Especially Henry, that dreadful man."

"Ah, yes," Olaf said, sourly, "I never trusted him. I'm pleased that he's dead."

They were silent. "Could you give me a moment, Esmé?" Olaf said.

"All right," Esmé said, looking a little confused. She left the room.

I held my breath and curled up tightly in a ball. Count Olaf was still studying the photo. A wicked smile appeared on his face. He ripped the photo in half, splitting up my parents, and tossed the piece with my father over his shoulder. He stuck the other half with my mother in his pocket.

Then, he stood up and walked over to the large painting that had the control panel behind it. He was about to take the painting off, but he stopped abruptly.

I moved farther back inside the closet, hiding behind the clothes, which were all worn and dirty. It made me sick to think there might be cockroaches buried deep underneath the pile of clothes.

Olaf reached over and slowly, the door to the closet opened. Again, I tried to bury myself deeper so I wouldn't be seen. Count Olaf began to rifle through the few clothes that were actually hung up properly. He pushed aside the article of clothing that I was hiding behind and I was now staring up at his shiny, shiny eyes.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here," Olaf sneered, "And it looks like you're feeling better too."

Olaf grabbed me by my hair, and yanked me out of the closet. I was pushed into a pile of papers, receiving multiple paper cuts.

"How dare you enter my tower!" he roared, a sharp blow hitting my cheek. "I thought I made it very clear that it was forbidden! You wretched girl! I am so tired of trying to get you to do what I tell you."

Then he began beating me, his hands repeatedly hurting me everywhere he could reach. I struggled to move out of harm but every time I tried, he kicked me.

"What is going on in here?" Esmé said, stepping into the room. She gasped in surprise at what she saw and then, narrowed her eyes at me. Olaf continued to claw at my face. "Olaf, stop now," she said, "it looks like you've done enough."

"Enough?" he snarled, but stopped beating me. I could already feel the hundreds of bruises that would surely appear in no time and my clothes were ripped and soaked in my blood. "I'm just getting started with this orphan. She has no respect for me so I'm going to show her how disrespectful _I_ can be. Come on, Esmé." He strode over to her and they headed for the door. "I'll be back, orphan." He called over his shoulder as the door slammed shut and the locks clicked.

I moved onto my side, clutching my stomach, which ached from the numerous kicks. I lay with my face pressed against the white papers. Tears filled my eyes and I was shaking uncontrollably.

My eyes caught sight of the half of the ripped that showed my father. I picked it up with a shaky hand. My only memory of my parents had been ripped apart, separating them from each other. Just like I had been separated from them. I sighed and waited, anxiously for Olaf's return. It wasn't until the sun was setting over the horizon that the door finally opened again. I wasn't sure if I should be relieved that it was the white-faced women and not Count Olaf.

They were carrying a raggedy gown, a rope, and a pair of scissors. They put these items down, snatched the photo from my hands, and began to remove my clothes. I tried to push their hands away, but they overpowered my weak struggles. Soon they had forced the gown over my head and took away my clothes.

I thought they were finished, but then they grabbed me and began pushing me over to a chair. Suddenly, I understood what the rope was for.

"Let go of me," I said, squirming in their grasp. I tried dragging my feet, but they sat me in the chair. One of them held me down while the other tied my wrists, ankles, and torso to the chair.

One of them held my shoulders while the other picked up the scissors.

"W-what are you doing?" I asked, suddenly very frightened.

"Quiet," the first one hissed.

She was holding the scissors and grabbed a chunk of my hair. I gasped in horror as I made sense of what was happening.

"No!" I yelled, "Don't!" I tried to free my hands but the second white-faced woman was still pinning my shoulders back and then her hand covered my mouth.

The first one who was holding the scissors, chopped off the chunk of blonde hair letting it fall into a trash bin. She continued to cut it despite my screams and struggles. Finally, I hung my head in defeat, staring at the pieces of my hair. Tears fell from my eyes and my fists clenched in anger.

They stopped cutting my hair up to just above my ears. When they finished, they cleaned up and left the room, leaving my clothes and hair behind. I kept staring at the floor, unable to keep myself from crying again.

The sound of the door opening once more made me look up, which I instantly regretted. Count Olaf was striding into the room and the bald man followed behind him, carrying my suitcase, which he put on the ground.

The bald man smirked when he saw me. "Looks like, Goldilocks got what she deserved," he sneered. "Why didn't you think of this sooner?"

"Don't ask pointless questions," Olaf said, irritated, "now leave baldy, I want to deal with the orphan myself."

The bald man left the room, throwing me a nasty look over his shoulder. The door closed and I wanted to curl up again, in fear of what was going to happen to me.

Olaf was at the fireplace along the wall that I was facing. The fireplace was rounded, yet slightly narrow at the sides. I realized it resembled an eye. Count Olaf was placing a pile of logs in the fireplace and lighting them on fire.

"W-what are you going to do with me?" I said, still struggling to free myself from the rope. Unlike the last time though, there was nothing sharp that could free me, and even if I freed myself from the rope, I still wouldn't be free of Olaf. I'd still be trapped in his tower, watching as he prepared to light a fire.

"It would be smart not to talk," Olaf snapped, "I could very easily shave off the rest of your hair."

I closed my mouth and waited until he turned around to walk over to me. His hand pushed back the short hair that I had left.

"It's such a shame that you lost so much of that hair," Olaf said, "It was the only thing that made you look…decent. But now that's gone." He paused and ran his fingers along the back of my neck, making me shiver. I was so used to having my hair covering my neck. Ever since I had seen the movie Dracula, I always kept my hair down because it made me feel like Dracula wouldn't be able to bite my neck. Without it, I felt more vulnerable and less like myself.

"To think," he continued, "if only you hadn't…snuck into my tower, that precious hair of yours wouldn't have been removed. And that's only the beginning of what I'm going to do with you."

"You're going to kill me?" I squeaked, despite his warning not to speak.

Count Olaf narrowed his eyes at me, but it turned into a mocking grin as he spoke. "Of course not, Jane, don't be stupid. If I were going to kill you, you would've been dead from the moment I found you in my closet. I can't kill you if I want your fortune too. But there are worse things than death, right?"

I didn't answer and averted my eyes to the window.

"But of course you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Count Olaf said. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You're still a naïve, little girl whose only purpose is to give me what I want and that means your fortune." He paused and let go of my chin. He walked around me, eyeing me as if I were prey he was toying with. When he was behind me, he put his scraggly hands on my shoulders and leaned his face close to speak into my ear. "You know, I could have been nice to you. I could decide to spare your life after I get your money." He dug his long, sharp fingernails into my shoulder, making me wince. "But since you aren't going to be nice to me, then why should I be nice to you?"

Count Olaf moved away to pick up the trash bin full of my hair.

"You have no clue just how nasty _I_ can be," he growled.

He carried the trash bin over to the fireplace. With a smirk, he poured my hair into the fire. The flames were bright orange as they grew. My nose wrinkled from the stench of the singed hair. My teeth were biting my lower lip so hard that I drew blood. I couldn't cry now, not now. I kept telling myself that but, it didn't make it any easier.

"Now, why don't we take a look at what's in your pockets," Olaf walked over to where my clothes had been strewn on the floor. He searched the pockets and pulled out the photo of the Baudelaires and I, and my light blue notebook. I was itching in my seat as I realized that everything in my life was about to come to an end. I've ruined it. I'm going to get the Quagmires and Monty Kensicle into trouble, Olaf will find out about the rope ladder thing I made, and I was just completely doomed.

Count Olaf first studied the photo of the Baudelaires and I at the Squalor's penthouse when we were wearing our pinstripe suits. He grinned. "It looks like neither of us has any use for this," he said, simply and tossed it into the fire.

The blaze devoured it and I watched as the flames inched their way over to Klaus. Again, a lump formed in my throat and despite what I told myself, a single tear escaped, leaving a trail on my cheek.

That only seemed to amuse him even more. "You're lucky it's only a photo of them," he said, "Now, what is this—one of those notebooks? Well, I wonder if your notebook might show me anything that could be useful."

He opened the notebook to a page. I cringed and squeezed my eyes shut as I listened for his reaction.

"How touching," he said, showing me the page. It was covered in drawings of hearts and doodles and writings that were all about Klaus. I furrowed my eyebrows. I might have expressed how I felt about Klaus in my journal entries, but I never drew hearts or made doodles. My notebook was strictly for my journal entries. "But it's not exactly important." Olaf flipped through more of it and looked disappointed. I caught a glimpse of the pages and they were all covered with the same thing. I was so confused. How was that possible?

"I guess it shouldn't matter," Count Olaf said, "it's only nonsense about the bookworm. I don't think it's of much importance to anyone."

He moved to drop it in the fire.

"No!" I blurted, "Don't!"

Count Olaf narrowed his eyes. "I thought I told you not to speak," he hissed, "well, anyways, I don't see why you would want to keep this."

"I do," I said, desperately, "don't burn it! Please."

Count Olaf gave me a slow smile. "I suppose I don't have to," I was filled with relief when I saw him about to put down the book. "But…I did warn you that I wasn't going to be nice."

"I'm sorry I entered," I cried, tears continued to trail down my cheeks, "I won't do it again! Just please don't burn my notebook!"

"Alright then," Olaf said, taking a few steps towards me again, "tell me why you were in here and I just might not burn your notebook."

I swallowed. "I-I…um," I faltered. Duncan had the film still and I was afraid if Olaf found out, it would ruin all of our chances of bringing him to justice and the Quagmires might be punished too.

"Hurry up," Olaf grumbled, "I don't have all day and I'm really tempted to just throw this notebook away."

"I was just—"

"Eavesdropping?" Olaf interrupted, "You were listening in on my plans for my latest scheme so you could stop me again, weren't you?"

I nodded. I'd rather he think that than what was actually true.

"I won't do it again, I swear!" my voice shook when I spoke.

"Really?" Olaf said, eyeing me curiously. "You want it that badly? Well, as desperate as you may sound, I don't think I can really let you think that you can get away with…eavesdropping." At that, he chucked my notebook into the fire.

"No!" I cried, dread filling me. Everything I had written, every last word was being destroyed.

Olaf strode over, striking me across the face with the back of his hand. He gripped my chin again, his eyes like daggers.

"It had to go, Jane," he said, "You should know by now how cruel life is. You can't always get what you want. I learned that lesson when I was much younger than you and you know what I also learned?" He paused and I didn't answer. My cheek still stung from the blow. Then, Olaf grabbed my hair yanking my head back and leaning his face close to mine. "I learned not to disrespect people who were a threat to my life. You see, since you legally belong to me and you're in my clutches, I have all the power in the world to do what I'd like to you. And though we haven't exactly reached our private little island quite yet, there are still plenty of crimes I could commit here that would go unnoticed. I could decide to slit your tiny throat or crush it with my bare hands. Of course, I can't kill you if I want your money, though that doesn't mean I still can't do awful things to you. Things so terrible that will make horror movies seem as scary as children's movies to you. Yes, there are so many horrific things that I could do and some too…inappropriate or violent to say to a ten-year-old. And it would be so easy too. Look just how easy it was for me to trap you in this chair. Do you realize I could be burning _you_ and there would be nothing you could do about it? I'm almost tempted to take further advantage of this situation. Maybe it might make it clearer for you to understand why you shouldn't disobey me. So if I were you, I would keep my mouth shut and listen to whatever was demanded of me, or I just might take this to another level." He smirked at my frightened expression.

Then, Olaf let go of me and strode over to pick up the clothes I had been wearing before I had been forced into this gown. They were plain, just clothes I had received from Good Will, but that didn't make seeing them burned to crisp slightly easier.

Then, Count Olaf opened my suitcase and searched the belongings for anything other than clothes. But there wasn't much in there and the only thing valuable was the jewelry box given to me by Aunt Jospehine, which despite how lovely it was, I had never found a use for it. Seeing him burn it made me feel guilty and as if I had failed Aunt Josephine in a way, even though she had kind of been the one who failed the Baudelaires and I. The dress I had worn for the Company show was in there too and Olaf didn't have second thoughts about burning it too. I felt sorry for Claire too, who had lent it to me. I should have found a way to give it back before I left.

"It looks like you don't have anything else of much value," Count Olaf said, "so I'll get rid of the rest of your clothes later." He then, removed a long, sharp knife from his pocket, causing me to shiver.

He strode over to me with it.

"Don't hurt me," I whimpered and then, closed my mouth quickly, afraid I crossed the line to 'another level'.

"I can't promise that," Olaf said, "but I was only going to untie you. Don't think that means you're free. One false move and you might just have to pay a price. Perhaps a finger, or a toe…" He grabbed my wrist and brought the knife to the rope. I held my breath; afraid he would change his mind and hurt me with it. Every time the cool, blade accidently brushed against my skin, I trembled.

My arms were free, but I was too scared to even move them to my sides. Even when my ankles and torso were free, I stayed in the same position. I just couldn't make them move, but I was afraid if I didn't move, I would be in trouble too. So I just sat still, conflicted in what I should do.

I was pulled roughly to my feet and had barely any time to regain my balance before I was being dragged out of the tower and down the stairs to my bedroom.

"Get back in your room," Olaf growled at the Quagmires who had eased their bedroom door open to see. "Or the same will happen to you."

Olaf pushed their door closed and then, dragged me into my room, which was…empty. The bed, the curtain rod, the cardboard box, even the pile of rocks had all been moved. And now the room was bare and looked larger than it had previously.

Before I could make any more observations, I was pushed to the ground again. I looked up at Olaf who was grinning wickedly back at me. He took a few steps toward me.

"How does it feel," he sneered, putting the knife away and inching his way closer to me, "to have nothing?"

I didn't respond and I stayed unmoving even when he took another step forward so he was towering over me.

"After all, you've always had nothing," Olaf said, "and before long you'll be completely alone. Once I've got the Baudelaires in my clutches, which should happen very soon, then I won't hesitate to kill two of them off since I really only need one of them to get their fortune. I think I'll start with the bookworm and get rid of one of those twins. Then when they've all come of age, I'll skin them alive and take their money. And then, it'll just be the two of us, not including Esmé, of course." He leaned down so that his face was inches from mine. "But what I do to the others won't compare to what I'll do to you," He brought his hands out and they closed around my neck. Not to choke me, though, his hands were rigid as if he were wishing he could kill me right now. "Oh, just wait until I have your fortune." He released his hands from my neck. "By the time I'm through with you, you'll beg me to kill you." He laughed cruelly.

Count Olaf reached back into his pocket for his knife. He grabbed my wrist, holding it tightly in his grasp as he rested the knife against it. It lay on its side and I shivered under the cool, smooth metal. My pulse raced and I broke into a nervous sweat. I didn't move though, afraid that any false moves would make him hurt me.

"Then," Olaf continued, lowering his voice. I had to strain my ears to hear him, "When I'm satisfied with you, I'll finish the job that carrot-headed girl failed to do." With that, he turned the knife, pressing the blade against my wrist.

I whimpered and squeezed my eyes shut under the stinging pain the cut brought. The blade left my wrist and I reopened my eyes to see the blood that was beginning to come from the cut on my wrist. It didn't look seriously deep but the prickling pains coming from it were a clear warning. Olaf was still clutching my wrist tightly, which only made it hurt more. He smiled nastily at me, before he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him. I heard a click as the door locked.

My wrist still leaked with blood and I held it close to my body, using my gown to soak up some of the blood. I lay down, then, still clutching my hurt arm. I tried to ignore the sting in my cheek and the pang in my shoulder as I lay against the wooden floor. It was dark outside now. No moon or stars appeared in the sky to illuminate the dark room. I felt helpless and small and cold. My neck was still exposed and everything felt wrong.

Before long, I was unable to suppress my tears and began to heave dry sobs. I wished I were with the Baudelaires so they could comfort me and tell me everything would be okay, even though it wasn't. I wished my parents never left me in this disastrous mess that only seemed to be getting worse as the years passed by. I felt anger towards them and one question lingered in my mind that I had been asking myself ever since I was old enough to understand my parents were gone. 'Why?' I thought, 'Why didn't they love and protect me like parents were supposed to? Why didn't they ever come back for me? Why did they leave me all alone in this world?'

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><p><strong>Review please! :)<strong>


	16. Spirit

**Here's a new chapter! And i hope you find it to be a little happier than the last one :)**

**R&R please!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: Spirit<strong>

The snow swirled outside my window, falling softly from the sky and disappearing as it went to land on the muddy earth. It was morning now and I was still curled up in the same position as last night. I didn't feel like moving. I didn't feel like doing much except staring out my window. It wasn't as if there was much to do anyways. I was stuck in this room for who knows how long. I'd probably go insane.

And my mind kept wandering back to the dream I had last night. It was more of a nightmare actually. I was in someplace that was really dark—darker than the bottom of 667 Dark Avenue. The Baudelaires had just arrived and were telling me all about their plans to help me escape. Klaus had reached through the bars and just as he took my hand, Klaus vanished. In fact, all three of the Baudelaires were gone. As my dream continued, I searched for the Baudelaires frantically. I found them again and my eyes widened when I found them trapped in a net. Suddenly, I was out of the cage and I ran over to help them. I tried to reach them, but they were too high. I screamed at them to grab my hand, but it was as if I didn't exist anymore. Then, I was grabbed from behind. I kicked and screamed, trying to reach the Baudelaires. When I looked up, I was staring into a pair of shiny eyes.

"You'll never see them again," he said, in his wheezy voice, "you're all alone now."

Then, I felt a knife cutting my arms and legs and everywhere. I screamed.

"Klaus! Klaus!"

But there was no answer. When I looked back at the net, the Baudelaires were gone.

That was when I woke up, feeling tears leaking from my eyes. I kept feeling the faint feel of the blade of that sharp knife against my skin, making me tremble in fright. It took a while before I could catch my breath and finally calm down.

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><p>A few days passed and I eventually did begin to move around. Every afternoon, the white-faced women would bring me on a trip to use the bathroom and I would receive a glass of water and a bowl of mushy oatmeal or soup. The food was always cold and uncooked, while the water was never cold. But after three days, it didn't really matter as long as it was food and water. When I wasn't being fed or taken to the bathroom, I was stuck in my room. I mostly just sat and stared blankly at the walls. Sometimes I would start to sing softly, but I would stop when I began to feel a pang in my chest. Occasionally I thought about going to see Monty Kensicle, but whenever I managed to move to the window, I changed my mind. Olaf and Esmé have been around quite often lately and I just didn't have it in me to go. Other times I tried to imagine that I was with the Baudelaires still. I began to worry that before long I would begin hallucinating. But it was my only way of staying relatively sane in this place and it didn't hurt either.<p>

At night I tried to sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, all I saw was Olaf threatening me with his knife, just as I had the first night. This particular night, I ended up falling asleep just as the sun was beginning to rise. I woke a few hours later and I nearly freaked out at what was sitting just a few feet away from me.

I met a pair of big, round, golden eyes. These strange eyes belonged to a grey owl. I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear my thoughts. Was I still dreaming?

The owl made a soft hooting noise. I pinched myself as hard as I could, but I didn't wake up. Could this really be real?

Then, I remembered seeing the owl in the woods. But I realized that it wasn't really grey speckled up close. This owl was grey with black streaks on its feathers and some on its head and tail. It was a small owl, and for that I was a little grateful. But how did it get in here? I looked to the window and found it open. It was snowing outside and a cool breeze blew into the room. I was a little frightened by the owl like last time, but I didn't have it in me to freak out about it.

When I lifted my head, the owl scuttled backwards, beating its wings, and looking uncertain about whether I was going to hurt it or not.

"H-hello," I said to the owl, my voice came out hoarse since it had been a few days since I talked. Its ears perked and I think it was listening.

It hooted softly again and twisted its head around. I noticed an object wrapped in brown paper was sitting behind where the owl was perched.

"What's that?" I asked. I sat up slowly, flinching when it hurt my shoulder. I reached for the wrapped object to remove it and a small container fell into my hands. It held a clear liquid-like substance. I turned the cap and opened it.

The owl hooted again, sounding like it was pleased with my action. I held the container close to my face and sniffed it, unsure of what it could be. It had a strong, minty scent. I touched the substance and found a glob of it stuck to my finger. It was cool like dew, making me shiver. Then I watched in amazement as the small cut on the side of that finger disappeared. I touched the substance again and then, put my finger up to the scab on my wrist where the knife had cut it. The cold liquid made goose bumps rise on my forearm, but after a moment it felt more like a numbing sensation. I watched with wide eyes as the numbing-like substance cleaned and healed my cut. The only sign that I had been cut in the first place was just a thin, pinkish scar. I gasped in amazement.

"What is this stuff?" I asked the owl. It just hooted. "It's some kind of medicine isn't it?"

The owl hooted again, flapping its wings.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," I said, "but I never knew there was a type of medicine that could heal wounds this quickly."

The owl hooted once more and I realized it was impossible to have a conversation with an owl. What was I doing talking to it anyways? It probably didn't understand what I was saying. I stared at the container again, wondering who could have sent me this. My only thoughts led to Monty Kensicle. Did he find out about what happened and sent me this medicine? But what about the owl? I've never heard him talk about having an owl or using one to send messages. I decided I didn't care and was just happy that Monty Kensicle was still on my side at least.

The owl hooted once more and then, flew out the window. I stood up on stiff, shaky legs and walked over to the window. When I looked up, I could see the owl flying up towards the sky. I wondered where it was going as it disappeared. I was left alone again and I closed the window. I returned to my spot on the floor and continued to apply the medicine to various cuts and bruises too. Even when I applied it to the soar part of my shoulder, the pain numbed and within a couple hours disappeared completely. If only there was something that could bring back my hair.

I sighed and curled into my usual ball again. There were so many things I was upset or worried about and I had too much time on my hands. I didn't close my eyes; I wasn't tired, only hungry and stiff. I just stared at the blank wooden walls of the room. Occasionally, I would change position, but my eyes never shifted even as the light from the sun dimmed, surrounding me in darkness again. Eventually, I was able to fall into a light sleep that I woke from every hour. Soon, one of the many times I fell asleep brought me a dream. This time it wasn't my reoccurring nightmare, but something else.

It was a strange dream, something I've never dreamt of before…

_I stood in the middle of a train station. Millions of people were there too, wearing odd clothing including pointy black hats and long robe-like outfits or cloaks. The people ranged from adults to children. Some children and teenagers were pushing carts filled with suitcases and birdcages with owls perched inside, towards a long black train. I noticed some of the children who didn't have owls, had cats or toads or an assortment of different animals. Everything was slightly blurry so I couldn't make out any faces or words, but they all looked excited as they boarded the train, leaving their parents behind. I wondered what made them so eager to leave their parents behind and I pitied them. Maybe they didn't realize the train would take them away from home. Then, I looked in front of me and found I was pushing my own cart and inside a birdcage rested the grey owl._

_My dream changed and I was standing at another train station, but this one was crowded with just the children and only a few adults. A giant-like man was beckoning the children to follow him down a trail. I was curious and decided to follow them. Some kind of excitement bubbled in my chest that I couldn't suppress as I followed them and I wasn't sure why. The dirt path was lined with trees on either side. The forest didn't look very safe, but I kept following the children. They were watching the trees too, some looking as scared as I was, others looked fascinated. There were a few children who paid no mind to the forest and focused on what was up ahead. _

_The mob of children stopped abruptly at the command of the giant-like man. I peered around them to get a better look at what everyone was staring at and my eyes rested on the icy, black waters of a large lake. It was nighttime now so the dark waters held a mystical look and suddenly I wasn't afraid anymore, instead I was fascinated just like many of the other kids. The children were boarding wooden rowboats now and glided across the smooth surface. But as I stared at all of the activity and the beauty of this lake, my attention was soon captivated by what was reflected in the waters. _

_I looked up to see what lay on the other side. It was something that could only be conjured up in a dream such as this. There was a castle perched on a hill, above the lake. It was lit up inside, casting a glow on the black waters of the lake like a beacon. The castle was made of stone and had an ancient kind of beauty that seemed almost magical. It drew me in and I began to realize what made the kids so eager to come here._

_The grey owl flew in front of my vision and continued across the lake, soaring high above the sky, and disappearing as it neared the castle. I took a step forward to chase after it and my legs were immersed in lake water. I tried to get back out to take a boat, but suddenly, my vision blurred. The castle was fading away and some kind of darkness crept out from behind me. I was being pulled away, into the dark forest until I could no longer see it. Instead, someone loomed over me with shiny eyes, brandishing a knife. My heartbeat sped up and I tried to scream, but my mouth was covered._

That was when I woke up with a start, my heart racing and my palms sweating.

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><p>For the next twenty-four hours, I thought about my dream. It scared me and excited me and confused me all at the same time. Although it had ended badly, it had been a relief from the nightmares I usually have. And even if that castle or that lake or the children were just apart of my imagination, I was happy that I got to see it all. I wished that I had my notebook still so I could write everything down. I wanted to remember it so that before I went to sleep, I could read about it. Maybe it would chase away all of my nightmares, or at least ease my worries.<p>

The next day, the owl returned with another package. This time it brought me a soft, baby blue blanket and I told the owl about my dream.

"Doesn't that sound wonderful?" I said, when I was done, "Imagine if a place such as that existed." The owl hooted looking as if he agreed with me. I finally figured out that this owl is a male.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. I jumped. It must be time for my daily trip to the bathroom and serving of food.

"Uh, oh," I said, "it looks like you might have to leave until they're gone," I gestured to the open window. "Go now, so you don't get caught."

The owl honked and then, flew out the window. I closed it and then, hid the blanket and the medicine in the space underneath the window seat. I answered the door and one of the white-faced women took me by the wrist to the bathroom. When I was finished I was brought back to my room and handed a bowl of cold alphabet soup and a glass of water.

The door closed and locked behind me. I opened the window and only had to wait a few minutes before the owl returned. I began to eat, but she kept staring at the soup intensely.

"Do you want some?" I asked. I reached in with my hand and collected a handful of noodles. I put them in a pile in front of her. The owl picked up a letter with her beak. When I expected her to eat it, I was surprised to see her moving the letters around. She arranged a few letters of the alphabet soup noodles to sloppily spell JANE.

"That's my name," I said, a little shocked that this owl knew my name, let alone how to spell it. "H-how did you know?"

The owl just hooted.

"I guess there are some things that can't be explained, right?" I said, "I just realized that I don't know what _your_ name is or if you have one."

The owl responded with another hoot and it waited eagerly to hear what I had to say.

"How about…Spirit?" I said, "I always loved that name and well, you did bring me the blanket and medicine. I think it suits you."

The owl hooted and it sounded like he approved so I officially named him Spirit.

I continued eating the soup and drank the water. When I was done I decided to tell Spirit all about…well…everything. I started with when my parents left me and what I remembered of my early years at the Ontario Boarding School for Girls. Then, I told him everything that I had experienced since I left. I wasn't sure if Spirit understood half of what I said, but it was a little comforting that I had someone to talk to even if Spirit was an owl. There was something special about Spirit, despite the fact that he could read, spell, and write with noodles. He had a majestic quality about him that I was yet to discover the answer to. And I felt like he did understand in a way. He stared back at me with intense, gold-rimmed eyes and I couldn't deny that this grey speckled owl was much more unique than I imagined. But maybe I was going crazy after not communicating with anyone for a number of days.

As the sky darkened, I pulled out the blanket and wrapped it around me as I drifted off into a light sleep. And when I squinted to see if Spirit was still there, I wasn't disappointed. He had flown to the windowsill and remained sitting there. Eventually I fell into a deeper sleep and this time my nightmare was slightly blurry, which made it less scary.

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><p><strong>Review please! I hope you liked the whole Hogwarts dream thing :)<strong>


	17. Betrayal

**And here's another chapter...**

**R&R please! :)**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: Betrayal<strong>

Spirit came to visit quite often over the course of the next few days. However, he didn't bring me any more packages for a couple of days. Then, I woke up one morning and I was surprised to find my notebook lying beside me. Amazed, I flipped through it and found it to be fully intact. Every word I had written was there and there was no sign of all those doodles about Klaus. After thanking Spirit, I added to it immediately, detailing everything that had happened to me from when Duncan and I snuck into Olaf's tower to now. I tried as best as I could to copy my dream about the castle down in detail too.

Spirit even brought me the roll of film the Quagmires must have still had. I wonder if they knew about him too. I tucked the film in my pocket and knew there was one thing left to do: visit Monty Kensicle to bring him the evidence and explain our absence.

But every time I thought about leaving my room, I was too scared. I was even more afraid of getting caught since Olaf seemed to not want to leave the house right now.

It wasn't until a couple of days later when opportunity came knocking on my door. Literally.

"Go Spirit!" I said to him in a whisper, urging him out the window, "They're coming!"

Spirit was reluctant, but knew by now that he shouldn't let them see him. I closed the window quickly and sat back on the floor just as the door swung open. I put on my usual blank composure as Olaf stepped into the room with Esmé behind him.

"Orphan," Count Olaf began, "I just came to tell you that Esmé and I will be out all day today as a part of my latest scheme. Those twins will be going with us and in a few days you'll be going too. I'll be keeping a close eye on you while my latest scheme is being put into action. And I mean so close that it'll seem like I have eyes in the back of my head. But we can talk more about that later. Nothing will change about today, you'll be in your room, of course, and Hooky will be watching you in case you try anything." The hook-handed man appeared in the doorway, with a nasty smile on his face. When Olaf wasn't looking he made a scary gesture with his hooks and I noticed they looked razor-sharp as if he had recently sharpened them. "Is that clear?" Olaf continued with narrowed eyes as if he were expecting me to argue.

I just nodded silently.

"Good," Olaf said, flashing me his own mocking smile. Then, he turned for the door. As he was leaving with Esmé and the hook handed man, I saw the bald man shoving the Quagmires down the stairs. They noticed me and stared at me with worried expressions. I tried to tell them with my eyes that I was all right, but I couldn't be sure if they understood because the door closed again, leaving me alone again.

I had to wait until the commotion of getting the Quagmires stuffed in a crate to fit in another pick up truck was over. I could hear the car tires pulling out of the driveway.

When they were finally gone, I had to wait a little longer because the hook handed man came in to have a 'chat'. Mostly he just made more threats to hurt me with his hooks and when he was satisfied, he went to go watch the television downstairs.

I went to my window then, opening it and calling for Spirit. If I was going to do this, I wasn't going to be alone.

Spirit came swooping from the sky and landed on the windowsill in front of me. I told him about my latest conflict and we reached a point where Spirit was urging me, as best as an owl could, to go and see Monty Kensicle while I had the chance.

"But I'm afraid that I'll get caught like I did when I snuck into Olaf's tower." I said, "Should it really matter if I went? Why couldn't you just deliver the film to him?"

Spirit hooted in disapproval.

"Maybe I do need to talk to him about some things," I said, "and I need to get out of this room before I lose my mind completely."

He hooted again and flapped his wings, urging me with his eyes. I sighed.

"Alright," I said, "but I better not get caught."

I opened my ladder, checking to make sure it was still safe and began to climb down. Spirit beat me to the bottom and then we were heading off to where the townhouse was. When I arrived there, Spirit went to perch on one of the trees in the backyard. I hoped he wouldn't raise any suspicion from any one who lived on this street, but he was quite small so I didn't think he would be too noticeable.

I knocked on the sliding doors and waited. And waited. But there wasn't an answer. I tried knocking again. Still, there was no answer.

I sighed and sat miserably on the porch. Maybe I would have to wait until he got back, but that could be a long time.

Spirit flew over and sat beside me, seeing my sad expression.

"He's not here," I said, gloomily, "and he could be gone for hours, the hook handed man is bound to notice I escaped by then."

Spirit stuck his head into my bag, pulling out my notebook from inside with his beak. He dropped it onto my lap.

"I don't feel like writing now," I said, "why should I write this down—"

I gasped as I realized. "The address!" I exclaimed, "Of course!" I flipped through my notebook and found what I was looking for. As soon as I had gotten back from Monty Kensicle's after we met to discuss our plan, I had written down the address I had seen in his notebook just in case it was important.

"Maybe this address will lead me to where he is," I said, feeling better now, "Thank you, Spirit."

Spirit looked proud of himself and then, we hurried over to Doldrum Drive, which wasn't too far from Count Olaf's house. Spirit found building 12 before I did because flying apparently was much faster. It made me wish I could fly too even though I knew it was impossible. The sign, Rhetorical Building hung over the entrance.

"You can't come in with me," I told Spirit who didn't look happy. "They might not like having an owl in there, especially since you're supposed to be sleeping during the day. Why don't you go rest somewhere nearby? I'll be out before you know it."

Spirit flew away and I bounded up the front steps to enter the building. The lobby was small, with a front desk along one of the walls. A man sat behind it. He had dark hair and a mustache. He watched me curiously as I approached.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"I need to go to the 13th floor," I said, "I'm visiting someone who works here."

"Can you give me a name?" he asked.

"His name is Monty Kensicle," I said, "I think he works here."

"I'm sorry, little girl," he said, "but there is no one in this building with that name."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "A-are you sure?" I asked.

"I'm positive," he replied.

"Well, who works on the 13th floor in room 13?" I asked.

The man typed something into the computer at his desk. "Mr. Snicket, you mean?"

"Huh?" I said, confused.

"Lemony Snicket is the name of the man who works in that office," the man explained.

"Oh," I said, taking a step away from the desk, "well, am I allowed to go up there? I might have gotten the wrong name or something."

"Is he expecting you?" the man asked.

"Yes," I replied. I might have lied, but it was for a good purpose.

"I guess I could let you up," he replied, "I hope you don't mind climbing up all of those stairs though."

"Thank you," I said, "and I'm sure I'll be fine."

I hurried for the stairs then, taking them two at a time so when I reached the thirteenth floor I was out of breath. I entered a narrow hall lined with doors and each door had a number. I wandered down the hall until I reached the office with the number 13 on the door. I opened the door and found that no one was inside. There were a few tall file cabinets and a desk covered in an assortment of objects, including a typewriter. I also noticed an interesting object that was being used as a paperweight. It was shaped in an 'S' like shape and looked oddly like a Lachrymose leech. I picked it up, examining it in my hands.

"Jane?"

I jumped and spun around to face a startled Monty Kensicle. He was carrying a briefcase and a couple books.

"What are you doing here? You're not supposed to—How did you know I work here?"

"Well, I-I looked for you at that townhouse, but you weren't there," I said, "and then the owl you sent me, Spirit, kind of helped me figure out where to go."

"I had to leave because someone bought it," Monty Kensicle said, "I moved to another house. Let me give you the new address and you can come again tomorrow. I apologize, but I'm very busy today. I don't think I have time. Did you say an owl?"

"Yes," I said, "you used him to send me those items, right?"

Monty Kensicle looked confused. "I never sent you an owl."

"Then, who sent me the blanket and the medicine?" I asked.

"I don't know," Monty Kensicle said, "we'll look into it later." He scrawled the address onto a slip of paper and handed it to me. "Here. Again, I apologize."

"But this isn't your office," I pointed out, "maybe you've confused it with someone else's. The man downstairs told me this office belongs to someone named Lemony Snicket…" I trailed off and suddenly I felt the same dizziness I had when I found the photo of my parents. Realization hit me like a freight train and it was so overwhelming, that it knocked the breath out of me.

"You are Lemony Snicket, aren't you?" I said.

Monty Kensicle, or Lemony Snicket pursed his lips. "Yes," he admitted, "but it's not what you think."

"It's not what you think," Lemony Snicket or whoever he is said. He put a hand on my shoulder.

"What do you mean?" I said. My voice began to tremble and I felt nauseous. I needed to leave _now_. "Is it true then? You're not Monty Kensicle? You're just some man named Lemony Snicket? You lied to me about who you are. What else did you lie to me about?"

"Nothing else, Jane," Lemony Snicket said, with pleading eyes, "I apologize for lying to you, but I didn't have a choice. Give me a moment and I'll explain everything."

"There's n-nothing to explain," I said, angrily, "Why should I listen? Klaus was right about you and Olaf was right about me."

I started for the hall, feeling angry tears beginning to fall from my eyes.

"Wait, Jane, please," Lemony Snicket said, grabbing my arm, "I never meant to upset you, but I couldn't tell you my real name because it might have been very bad for you and me. I didn't want Olaf finding out. If he ever knew…he might do something very bad to you, and my life would be at stake."

"How am I supposed to believe you?" I cried, "You may very well be in cahoots with Olaf just like Esmé and you've probably been waiting for the perfect moment to tell him everything. And just so you know, I got the evidence. I found a roll of film in his tower room." I paused to wipe some tears away and took out the roll of film from my pocket. "But here, take it and do with it as you please. And if you are working for Olaf, you should go right on ahead and tell him everything you know."

I ran from the room.

"Jane!" Lemony Snicket called, but I had already reached the stairwell and swung the door open. I raced down the stairs and out of the lobby. When I was outside, I kept running. I didn't care where I was going; I just needed to run somewhere. I could hear Spirit coming after me, hooting at me to stop. But I kept going. I had run five blocks before I finally stopped. My legs were wobbling and I had to sit down on the steps of some building before I collapsed. I began to weep.

It wasn't fair. Everyone I had ever trusted had betrayed me. Why should I even bother to trust anyone? It reminded me of what Olaf had said to me after I'd been fooled by Esmé Squalor.

"_You should know by now in your puny, little life that the most people will do for you is make you suffer. Why else would your parents have abandoned you so many years ago?"_

I continued sobbing, hating myself for being so stupid again. Olaf had been right, as unfortunate as it sounds. No one has ever cared about me. Not even my actual parents. Those happy people in that photo were probably big phonies just like everyone else. Who would I be able to trust now? Could I still trust even the Baudelaires and the Quagmires? What if they decided to betray me too?

'_Then, I'd be alone,_' I thought, remembering what Olaf had said to me before he left me in my room. I really _was_ alone.

Spirit landed beside me and hooted softly. He gently nibbled my finger. Okay, maybe I wasn't _completely_ alone. I still had Spirit, but when the time came for me to leave this place, I wouldn't have anything. Just like always.

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><p>The following days were difficult for me. Nothing changed really. I went back to staring lifelessly at the walls of the room, but Spirit stayed with me a lot more now. Having him as company made me feel a little better.<p>

One morning I was talking to Spirit about the Baudelaires. I've been doing that quite often because it was the only topic that I could bare.

"Violet is an amazing inventor." I said, "When we were living with our Uncle Monty she invented a lock pick to break into Stephano's suitcase. And she—"

"What's going on in here?"

I jumped and noticed the owl had been startled too. We both craned our heads in the direction of the door.

Esmé Squalor stood in the doorway holding a bowl of what looked like mush.

"N-nothing," I said, stepping in front of Spirit to block him from view.

"Nothing?" Esmé said, putting the bowl down. "There's an owl in your room and the window is open. You let it in, didn't you? I should have expected it from such a nasty girl. You would associate yourself with such a disgusting creature."

"Spirit is not disgusting," I said, firmly.

Esmé shoved me over and made a shooing gesture at Spirit. "Shoo, shoo you ugly thing." Spirit didn't move, his eyes were focused on me. I tried to urge him with my own eyes to get out of here, but he remained there, still as a statue.

"I said get, get you stupid bird," Esmé aimed a kick at Spirit. I guess she figured Spirit would fly away before her foot reached it because when her foot hit him, she jumped.

"Don't hurt him!" I cried, grabbing her arm and trying to pull her away. She swung her arm back and hit me hard. I fell back as Esmé went to aim another kick at Spirit.

This time he flew towards the window as if he were going to leave. He looked suddenly very angry. Then, he swooped, turning around, Spirit darted straight at Esmé. He grabbed her hair with his talons, tugging on it sharply.

"Get off of me!" Esmé shrieked trying to bat him away with her bare hands. Spirit kept beating his wings.

"What are you yelling about Esmé?"

I looked behind me and saw Count Olaf entering the room, looking angry. His gaze went immediately to me.

"_You_," he spat.

"I-I…" I stuttered.

Olaf growled and heaved a kick at me, hitting me in the side.

"Get this thing off of me!" Esmé yelled, "It's ruining my hair!"

Count Olaf looked half-surprised, half-exasperated as he went to grab Spirit with his bare hands. Spirit let go of Esmé's hair, but preceded to bite Count Olaf's hand.

"That stupid bird bit me!" He roared, letting go. "Don't worry Esmé, I'll have it killed." He went to reach for Spirit again, but he flew over to me. Spirit landed on my shoulder. I gently pet Spirit and He stuck his beak near my ear, gently nipping me as he usually did when I was upset.

"No one is killing him," I said, angrily, "Spirit is my friend and I won't let either of you hurt him."

"Is this what you've been doing this whole time?" Olaf sneered, "Befriending strange birds and naming them. What is this window doing open anyways? I thought you learned your lesson. But it looks like I'm going to have to teach it to you again."

"Wait," Esmé said, "it's just sitting on your shoulder. Perfect." Esmé turned around and closed the window. "Now stay still, Jane. Don't make any sudden movements so we can catch this blasted bird."

"Yes, orphan," Olaf agreed, "if you let us catch the bird I won't harm you. Besides, we should be going now. Today's the day you were supposed to leave. Count Olaf began carefully coming toward the owl and I.

"Don't," I said, firmly. "Don't hurt him. Spirit didn't do anything wrong. He was only trying to protect me."

"Don't be stupid, orphan," Olaf said, "I can't allow that thing to live and think it can just come into my home. Now, just hold still."

I glanced at the owl, trying to make Spirit see that he needed to fly away. But I wasn't sure if he understood because he didn't move an inch. I wanted to move to protect Spirit, but I was afraid I would get in trouble. All I kept seeing was the knife flashing in front of my eyes again and again.

Now, Count Olaf had reached us. He stopped and began to reach his hands out to trap the bird. His hands were hovering on either side of Spirit and he looked triumphant. But as his hands closed around Spirit, he flew up so fast that it scared me. He began soaring around the room, taunting the villains.

Count Olaf growled as his hands closed over nothing but the air beside me. He reached out and grabbed my shoulders, looking livid.

"This is all your fault," he snarled, "I've known something is up with you, you can do things that I'm yet to understand."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, "I woke up one morning and Spirit was there. And then we became friends."

"Don't forget that you're still in trouble for sneaking into my tower," Count Olaf said, nearly yelling. His grip on my shoulders tightened and he started to shake me like I was a ragdoll. "You better stop this right now or I'll—"

But Olaf didn't get to finish saying what he was going to do to me, because he cried out in pain. Spirit had darted at Olaf and dug his talons into the top of his head, leaving scratches that bled. Olaf let go of my shoulders and Esmé rushed to his side, yelling nasty things at me, and Spirit, who flew out into the hall. He circled above the ground and I think Spirit was waiting for something…for me. I followed him out into the hall and he began to fly down the stairs. I met him at the bottom and in the front room.

I could hear Esmé and Count Olaf bounding after the bird and I.

"Get back here, orphan," Esmé called after us.

I ignored them and quickly opened the front door.

"Close that door right now, you brat!" Count Olaf yelled from the stairs.

"Fly away," I said to Spirit, "hurry!" He came down and nipped my earlobe again. His eyes urged me to come with him. "I can't go with you. I need to stay so I can look after my friends." My eyes filled with tears, "I don't know if I'll be able to see you ever again. I'm sorry." Spirit looked sad and his eyes were glossy as if he were crying too. Then he took off, soaring high up in the sky. "Goodbye, Spirit!" I waved to him and he hooted. I watched Spirit until he disappeared into the cloudy sky. I wiped my wet eyes with the backs of my hands. I know he was only an owl, but he really was my friend and I would miss having a little companion. I was reminded again of that castle I had seen in my dream and I hoped wherever Spirit went, he would be safe. As for me, I wasn't really sure what would happen now that Spirit was gone. And maybe I didn't really care anymore.

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><p><strong>Review!<strong>

**Next chapter will include Jane's arrival at V.F.D. finally :)**


	18. The Village of Fowl Devotees

**New chapter! This is going quicker than i expected :)**

**Well...Enjoy and don't forget to Review!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven: The Village of Fowl Devotees<strong>

I opened my eyes to find myself staring at a dull grey ceiling. It was filthy looking, but as I looked around, I found that the ceiling wasn't the worst part. After observing the thick, metal bars with a padded lock, the wooden bench, and the tiny window with the same metal bars, I came to the conclusion that I was yet again trapped inside some kind of cage. It was a little bigger than the last one and there were more cages than this, cages that lined both walls.

I rubbed my eyes and cringed when it hurt my wrist to do so. I recalled my memory of what had happened after Spirit left. Olaf and Esmé had been furious. After being harmed again by Olaf, I was force-fed something that had sunk me into unconsciousness. Although the memory cleared up of how I hurt my wrist, my location was still a mystery.

I slowly sat up and rubbed the dirt from the floor off of my arms. I looked down and noticed that I had at least been given a new outfit to wear. It was just as plain as my usual clothes. Just a white v-neck t-shirt and a pair of ripped light-denim skinny jeans that kept slipping from my waist. I guess I was losing a lot of weight from only receiving one meal a day that was usually served in small portions, but I had always been a little on the skinny side.

I stood on shaky legs and stared up at the barred window, my only source of light and perhaps the only clue to discover exactly where I was. Carefully, I stepped on top of the wooden bench to reach the window. But it was so high up and I was so short. I couldn't reach it. I wanted to kick myself. Why did I have to be so short?

After my frustration faded, I sighed and sat back down on the bench. I rested my chin in my hands, my elbows on my thighs. I was back to boredom and I began to really miss Spirit's company. At least there had been someone to talk to, even if that someone was a grey owl who occasionally brought me packages from an anonymous sender. My mind lingered on that thought for a moment as I contemplated who the sender could be. Monty Kensicle or…Lemony Snicket, I guess had denied any knowledge of Spirit.

I sighed again and tried to clear my mind from the subject of Monty Kensicle or Lemony Snicket or whoever he was. I still was a little angry about him lying to me. I guess it didn't matter too much though, I'd probably never hear from him again. I was glad too, the very thought of him brought an ache to my heart as I was yet again faced with the reality of my lonely life. Just thinking about it made me curl up into a tiny ball. It made everything a little easier to bear when I did that.

I felt my pockets then, and wanted to bang my head against the wall when I discovered my notebook was missing again. Could Count Olaf have discovered it and burnt it yet again? At that moment, I remembered, I had stuck it in the space under the window seat. Well, at least it was safe until I could retrieve it. If I ever got the chance to…

There were footsteps and my attention was brought to the hall. Count Olaf was approaching and I noticed he was in yet another one of his disguises. This time he wore a brightly colored turquoise blazer that made me squint, but what made me almost cover my eyes in disgust was the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath it. Only a gold chain hung around his neck, leaving most of his pale, hairy chest exposed. I shuddered. He also wore a pair of silver pants with what looked like tiny mirrors on them. On his nose rested a pair of enormous sunglasses so I wasn't able to see the upper-half of his face, which concealed his shiny eyes and one eyebrow. He wore a pair of bright green plastic shoes that had plastic yellow lightning bolts sticking out of them to conceal his tattoo. He was carrying a loaf of bread and a pitcher of water.

"Hello, Blondie," Count Olaf said as he unlocked the cell door. Although, in order to do so, he had to remove his sunglasses so he could see, revealing his shiny eyes. "I hope you're thinking about all of the horrible things you've done. I figured being left alone in your room back at my home would give you the time to reevaluate your latest decisions, but apparently I was wrong. _But_ I think this change of scenery will do the trick. I made sure the window was extra secure to ensure that no creatures come in." Olaf handed me the pitcher of water. I found that the pitcher was already half empty and when I looked up, I saw Olaf ripping the loaf of bread in half. I was given one of the halves.

"I'm afraid I couldn't allow you to have all of the bread," Olaf continued, "I was quite starving myself from all of my hard work." He stuffed the bread into his mouth chewing it obnoxiously and forgetting to close his mouth. I looked down at my own bread and found that I had lost my appetite. I forced myself to eat some of it anyways, I remembered back at 667 Dark Avenue when I had refused the bread Duncan had offered to me and was later starving. It wouldn't be good if I passed up a half a loaf of bread now. After I finished, I was still hungry. It seemed as though I was always hungry. I sighed, heavily and my gaze moved to the ground.

"In case you're wondering, I'm to be called Detective Dupin now," Olaf said, "My disguise will definitely be enough to fool those villagers."

"Where are the Quagmires?" I asked, raising my head. My voice was croaky from not speaking for a while.

"Their whereabouts is only for me to know," Olaf said, "You're not to be associated with those twins, which is why I've separated them from you. The twins might know too much and I can't have someone as untrustworthy as you knowing…"

"You mean what V.F.D. stands for?" I said.

"Exactly," Olaf said, "it looks like you're finally catching on. I'm going to be in here for quite some time today. So I thought I would spend my time keeping a close eye on you."

"Well, there's no point," I said, glumly, "unless you want to be bored to death."

"Maybe at the moment you have nothing to do," Olaf muttered, "but who knows what you might do. After all, you befriended that disgusting bird while you were locked in that empty room. You might end up talking to that loaf of bread for all I know."

I rolled my eyes and looked away. The only problem with talking to a loaf of bread would be that I had gone completely insane, not that I was causing problems.

"Spirit never interfered with your plans," I muttered, "he was just helping me out. I don't see the harm in that."

"I don't trust that bird," Olaf grumbled, reaching to touch the scratches that lingered on the top of his head where Spirit had got him. "It might have been a carrier owl trained by V.F.D. after they lost their other uses for sending messages." Then, he stopped as he realized he may have said too much. "Of course, by V.F.D., I mean this village." I nodded, trying not to reveal the fact that I knew enough about V.F.D. to know what it stands for.

My thoughts turned to the new information. Spirit wasn't just any owl he was probably a specially trained one who sent messages to people. Like a carrier pigeon. Someone from V.F.D. must be trying to help me. It made so much more sense now. Though, I kept wondering who it could possibly be.

Olaf continued to go on about his brilliant plans, though he was careful to leave out details so I wouldn't try to foil them. I listened silently as he drowned on and began to feel suddenly tired.

It wasn't until a little later that Count Olaf stopped in reaction to some voices. I looked up to see what was going on. Olaf was smiling eagerly at whoever was coming down the hall.

"I'm not Count Olaf, I swear!" the man cried, sounding frantic.

"No one's going to believe you," I heard Esmé saying, "Especially since you've committed so many horrible crimes. Isn't that right, Detective Dupin?"

The man, who I was beginning to make out as he was pushed farther towards my cell, looked at Detective Dupin. As he did, his expression became bitter, but that didn't hide the sound of his voice shaking when he next spoke.

"C-count Olaf," he nearly hissed, "I should've known it was you."

Detective Dupin merely gave him a cruel smile. "Actually, it's Detective Dupin. And it's just not cool to tell such big lies. You should know very well that lying always comes with a price."

Esmé, who was disguised as what looked like some police officer, had been unlocking the cell door next to mine. When Detective Dupin had finished speaking, she didn't hesitate to shove him into the cell. The cell door slammed closed leaving the man as trapped as I am. That was when he noticed me, his dark eyes widening.

"That's the orphan," he said, "you're having her burned at the stake too? She's a prisoner?"

"Not exactly," Detective Dupin said, "she hasn't committed any crimes against this village. But she is still a prisoner. _My_ prisoner." I shuddered.

"What did you do to her, you monster?" the man spat, "Do you have any idea who—?"

"Enough!" Esmé cried, "As Officer Luciana, the chief of police, I demand that you remain silent. Let's go Detective Dupin, we have lots to do."

Esmé took Count Olaf's hand and they disappeared down the long hall, their laughter echoing off of the walls. When it died away, I glanced nervously in the direction of the man who was accused of being Count Olaf.

He had sunk down onto the wooden bench and his cell. Then, he looked up and met my gaze.

"You're Jane Rumary, correct?" he said.

I nodded. "How did you know?"

"Well, I've been investigating your story for quite sometime," he said, "I've been tracing the lives of the Baudelaires and you as well."

"Really?" I said.

The man nodded. "I'm very sorry that you were yet again kidnapped by those despicable people."

"Me too," I said, "Did you mention something about being burned at the stake?"

"Yes," the man replied, gloomily, "you see I came to this village in search of the Baudelaires. I guess I should have known Olaf would be here too. Was that Esmé Squalor disguised as the chief of police?"

"Unfortunately," I said, "I didn't know until just recently. In fact, I have no clue where I am or how I got here."

"This is the Village of Fowl Devotees," the man said, "or V.F.D."

"Do you know about…" I trailed off, uncertain if I should ask about it.

"V.F.D., you mean?" the man said, "If you're speaking of a particular organization by that name, then, yes I do know about V.F.D. I assume you know about it too."

"The Quagmires told me what it really stands for," I said.

"The Quagmires?" the man asked, "You wouldn't happen to be referring to the triplets? Isadora, Duncan, and Quigley are their names, I believe."

"Yes," I said, "but the third triplet, Quigley, didn't survive the fire. Duncan and Isadora are around here somewhere, though. Olaf wouldn't tell me where, he doesn't trust me."

The man eyed me curiously, furrowing his eyebrows as he did. "That was partially why I came here," he said, his gaze moving to the tiny barred window in his cell. "Isadora and Duncan may have been mistaken."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

The man faced me again and as I met his gaze, his eyes made him look quite young against his hard-set features. I could see he had been through quite a lot and it made me intrigued to find out his story.

"There's a possibility that there may have been a survivor of the fire that destroyed the Quagmire mansion," he said.

"You mean…Quigley survived?" my eyes widened.

"Yes," he nodded, "in fact, I ran into the boy a few months ago. He was looking for them and it seems as though his search isn't going very well."

"That's great news!" I said, excited now. "Imagine how happy Isadora and Duncan will be when I tell them their brother is still alive. If only Olaf wasn't keeping me separated from them."

"You should find a way to tell them," the man agreed, "they have a right to know and maybe Quigley is on his way as we speak. I'm afraid I may have left a backpack behind that he probably found a use for. I'm just glad it's in good hands."

"So what is he like?" I asked, "Isadora is a poet and Duncan is a journalist, but they never said much about who Quigley was or _is_."

"He told me he's a cartographer," the man said, "that means he designs maps."

I smiled. He's probably just as brilliant as his siblings are.

"Speaking of talents," the man continued, "I've heard you are quite the actress and you're musically gifted as well."

I shrugged, my cheeks reddened. "It's not that great," I said, "besides, it's been a long time since I've sung anything or acted for that matter."

"Why?" he asked.

I told him about sneaking into Olaf's tower, Spirit, and a little bit about Monty Kensicle.

"Monty Kensicle?" the man asked, a grin spreading across his face, "And what did you say was his real name?"

"Um…Lemony Snicket," I said, "but that's not the point. He lied to me about his name—about who he was probably. So many people have lied to me, how could I trust him? What if he was trying to hurt me too?"

"Lemony Snicket has no intention of hurting you or any of your friends," the man said, flashing me a smile, "I can see where you're coming from, but I can assure you that although he did lie about his name, he can certainly be trusted. I think he was just trying to protect you."

"You know Lemony Snicket?" I asked, my eyes widening.

The man chuckled. "I just realized I forgot to introduce myself," he said, "my name is Jacques, Jacques Snicket. I'm his older brother."

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><p><strong>Review!<strong>


	19. Unspeakable

**Here's a new chapter finally! I haven't had much time because of all this homework i've been getting :(**

**Anyways...**

**Enjoy! And don't forget to Review please!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Unspeakable<strong>

My eyes were so wide I thought they would bulge out of my head. And then I saw it…the resemblance. I guess I hadn't realized how alike they looked since Monty Kensicle or Lemony Snicket often sported massive trench coats and wide-brimmed hats that concealed most of his face. But now that I knew this man was Jacques Snicket, I could see the similarities between the two. Jacques has darker hair than Lemony and only one eyebrow, but they do have the same dark eyes and build. In addition, they both have the same slightly rounded, square shaped face.

I frowned then, upset with myself as I realized what I did.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, "I-I didn't realize. Ugh, why am I always so stupid? I can't believe I was so foolish that I thought Lemony—"

"Don't," Jacques interrupted me, "it's alright. You're not stupid, you were right to be cautious. It can be difficult to know whom to trust. In fact, sometimes the people you trust the most can end up being your worst enemy. I'm sure if you apologize to him, he would forgive you."

"Thanks, I guess," I said.

"Now that that's settled," Jacques said, "I'm sorry about what Olaf did to you, but I'm glad that's all he did. I've known Olaf for a long time and he can be very dangerous. It reached a point where I believed my own brother was dead. Of course so did the others."

"You mean V.F.D. members?" I asked.

"Yes," Jacques replied, "Actually, your own parents used to be among us."

I brightened. "You knew my parents?" I asked.

Jacques smiled. "Of course, I did," he said, "I went to school with your mother. We were good friends. Actually, I think I'm being way too vague. I'm also your godfather."

My eyes widened even more. "You're my god father?" I asked. The words felt weird and foreign. Jacques was my godfather? It couldn't be true. Mr. Poe told me that I didn't have any living family members. And if it were true, then why was I sent to some horrible boarding school for my whole life until I last year? Why didn't Jacques Snicket take care of me instead? He was my real family!

Jacques must have easily read my sour expression because he said, "I know what you're thinking," he said, "but I'm afraid I don't have the answer to why I didn't become your legal guardian after your parents perished. I didn't know if you were even still alive until I heard that you were being sent to live with Olaf. Actually, everyone assumed you were dead, some still do. Ever since I found out you were Abigail and Henry's daughter I knew I had to help Lemony trace your story. I figured it might give me clues to discover the truth about your parents But when I arrived at Olaf's home to investigate the Baudelaire's miseries there, I discovered you weren't with them. I always ended up coming late every time after that and lately it has been difficult to trace both you and the Baudelaires at the same time. I'm just glad I have Lemony for help."

I sighed and then, I realized that maybe I shouldn't be angry. Well, at least not with Jacques around. It wasn't him that I was mad at. Besides, I should be happy. I've just found what I'd been searching for since I was old enough to understand that everyone else had a family, except for me. And now I have someone who actually cares whether I live or die, well, besides the Baudelaires, the Quagmires, and Lemony Snicket. And I never wanted to lose it ever again. So I smiled.

"What are you smiling about?" Jacques asked.

I shook my head. "I just…never met anyone who was related to me in anyway," I said, "Mr. Poe told me all of my relatives died mysteriously. I wonder if he just forgot about you."

"Your parents did keep a lot of information private," Jacques said, "some things during that time were better left unspoken of."

"Because of the schism?" I asked.

Jacques nodded silently.

"Can you tell me anything else about my parents?" I asked.

"Well, your father, Henry, had a good sense of humor and overall, he was a very charismatic man," Jacques said, "He had a way with words that many of us could have dreamed of having. But he was more of a peacemaker so he didn't want that kind of power over people. He treated your mother with a lot of respect as she treated him. As for Abigail, your mother, she was quite lovely. She was very brave too and became a leader for some of us. But she also had a good heart and even though she made mistakes, I believe she was still a noble person. Noble enough, I should say. You know, she had a lovely voice and quite a talent for acting, as do you. I've heard many stories about your talents."

My cheeks reddened. "Thanks," I said, "but it's not that great. Actually, I haven't sung a song for quite a few weeks. Not since…" I swallowed, trying to ignore the pang I got every time I thought about that dreadful night when Olaf caught me in his tower room. "Besides…it's too hard."

I expected him to be confused, but Jacques seemed to understand perfectly.

"Because of what Olaf has done to you," Jacques answered, "He's not very good at covering up the harm he's done to you." I glanced down at my arms and realized that he was right. Light yellow-brown bruises still covered my arms and even parts of my legs. Some were still fresh from after Spirit had been caught. "But should you really let that interfere with what you love the most?"

"But what will it do to help anyone?" I said, "It's pathetic to have such talents when I'm constantly surrounded by danger. How will I ever be able to survive on my own if all I can do is sing songs and act? I can't invent, I'm not very good at researching, and I certainly don't have sharp teeth. Even poetry and journalism are better than what I can do. The only person acting has ever proved to help slightly is Olaf, but he only fools certain people and what he does is bad."

"Jane, dear," Jacques said, "I've known many people in my life that have had similar talents who were as noble as you are and they did wonderful things; your mother, for instance."

I was silent as I fiddled with my hands.

"Do you think you could sing something for me?" Jacques asked, breaking the silence.

I bit my lip. "I-I…I don't know…" I faltered. It was about more than the fact that my talents weren't useful. It still ached whenever I struck up a tune, but I also didn't want to disappoint him, but every time I started a tune, I had an ache inside me. It was as if seeing all of my belongings burned had kind of taken apart of me. My hands reached up and I was further disappointed when I remembered my hair wasn't long enough to twirl.

Jacques's eyes softened. "Jane, if music and acting are important to you," he said, "then, you shouldn't let it slip away. It's the one thing Olaf can't have. You don't have to sing for me if you don't want to. I just don't want to allow you to give up on this."

I sighed heavily. "No, it's fine. I'll sing." I told myself I was only doing it for Jacques, but somewhere inside me I kind of felt like I owed it to myself too. Then, I took a deep shaky breath and the words flowed from my lips:

"_I took my love and I took it down,"_

_I took a shaky breath, trying to hold back my tears,_

"_I climbed a mountain and I turned around_

_And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills_

_Well, the landslide brought me down"_

I began to feel my chest tighten like it usually did when I was singing since being locked in that empty room. I closed my eyes and tried to block out those painful memories of how alone I had felt.

"_Oh, mirror in the sky_

_What is love?_

_Can the child within my heart rise above? _

_Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides?_

_Can I handle the seasons of my life?_

_Uh uh... uh uh, uh uh_

_Well, I've been afraid of changin'_

_Cause I've built my life around you_

_But time gets bolder_

_Even children get older_

_And I'm getting older too_

_Well…"_

I stopped then, unable to go on. I kept seeing that knife and the blood dripping from the cut on my wrist. I shuddered and my thoughts turned to the fire. Watching my belongings destroyed had been hard, but I also realized it pained me for more than just that reason. I recalled the fire in the shack Carmelita locked me inside. Even though I made it out alive, sometimes details of that night came back to me. Details so vivid that it was almost as if I was there again, trapped by a wall of flames inching their way towards me…I shuddered. Those flames seemed to always take so much and tomorrow they would take Jacques as well. My heart ached and I clutched myself tighter before I could start crying.

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><p>We had sat mostly in silence as the afternoon sun sank farther below the horizon, casting long, dark shadows on the walls. Sometimes Jacques and I talked. I began to really like him and the fact that he was my godfather made me eager to tell him everything. I had waited so long for this and now that it was finally here, I almost couldn't believe it.<p>

As day turned to night, Jacques suggested that we try to get some sleep. He was lying on the ground of his cell to sleep because the bench was too short to accommodate him, but he used it as a headrest. I lay on my own bench so I faced Jacques, but I didn't fall asleep and something told me that I wasn't going to sleep at all tonight. I was too nervous about Jacques's death tomorrow. It was so awful that they had to end his life in such a gruesome way. Wasn't burning a person at the stake illegal in this country—let alone convicting someone with little support?

"Jacques?" I said, softly.

His head slowly turned in my direction and it was confirmed that he wasn't getting much sleep either.

"Yes, Jane?"

"W-why did my parents die?" I asked. I was still thinking about our earlier conversation and I still had some questions that I had been wondering about for a long time.

Jacques paused, the silence stretching out. "My belief is that they might have died in a fire. Their cottage, which was located in Canada, had mysteriously burned to the ground. It was the last place anyone saw them."

"Fire?" I said, confused, "But Mr. Poe told me they died in a car accident."

Jacques shook his head. "My beliefs may be false, but I am positive that their death was not because of a car accident of any sort."

I was quiet for a moment. "D-do you think someone may have set the fire?" I asked, "Like with the Baudelaire and the Quagmire mansions?"

"It's a possibility," Jacques said, "but like I said, I found little evidence to support my opinion. It seems as though, whoever set the fire—If it was indeed intentional—tried to cover up his or her tracks as best as he or she could. But I'm guessing your parents had known to protect you from death, so much so that everyone believed you were dead. Those who opposed it couldn't find you or at least any leads as to where you were." Jacques paused again. "But enough chit chat. You should go to sleep Jane. You need rest."

"But it just doesn't make sense to me," I said. "Why didn't they find me? Why didn't the head mistress of my boarding school recognize my name or anyone else? Was I invisible to everyone?"

Jacques frowned. "There are some things that even I don't know the answer to," he said, solemnly. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, "Oh, I almost forgot! I have something I wanted to give you."

Jacques reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, light blue flower. "It's a Plumbago flower. I grew it myself along with a few more bushes of them."

Jacques managed to squeeze his hand through the bars on the side to drop the tiny blue flower into my hands. I held it between my thumb and index finger as I studied it.

"It's very pretty," I said, putting it in my pocket for safekeeping, "thank you."

Jacques smiled. "You know, they don't need a lot of water to survive," he added, "They're strong. Like I know you are." He winked.

"Thank you," I said again, giving him a small smile.

Before either of us could speak, a long, dark shadow was cast upon us. I lifted my head, my vision clearing so I could make out the shadowy figure of Count Olaf still in his disguise. I was reminded briefly of that luminous circle that the Baudelaires and I had raced around for S.O.R.E.

"W-what are you doing?" I asked, in a whisper as I sat up. Jacques was beginning to stand.

"I'm here for Count Olaf," the real Count Olaf said, "not you orphan."

I ignored him. "_Jacques_ isn't supposed to be burned at the stake until tomorrow morning."

"_Well_," Count Olaf said, in his wheezy voice, "there's been a slight change of plans."

"They're not burning him now," I said, my voice raising in alarm.

"Quiet, orphan!" he growled. "This doesn't concern you! Now go to sleep!"

I crossed my arms and didn't blink.

Olaf looked as if he was going to hurt me again, but then, he gave me a wicked smile.

"Alright," he said, "have it your way then."

With that, he unlocked Jacques' cell door and strode inside. Jacques had made it to his feet and he was glaring heavily at Olaf.

"What is it that you need me for Olaf?" Jacques nearly spat.

"Actually, it's Detective Dupin," Olaf said, "You should know very well that you are Count Olaf. And it's very risky to call people by the wrong names."

"I'm sure you know plenty about that," Jacques said.

"And soon, so will you," Count Olaf continued, and reached into his pocket. He took out a long tube sealed with a cap. The tube was clear so I could see the blue tinted fluid trapped inside. Olaf twisted the cap and I could see that it had been concealing a very long, and dirty looking needle.

"Why do you have that?" I gasped, panic seized me. "Is that poison in there?" I was reminded briefly of finding poor Uncle Monty as pale as a ghost and later discovering the two snakebite holes underneath his eye were where Olaf had injected venom into his skin. I shuddered.

"I said be quiet!" Olaf growled, "But unfortunately, the orphan was correct, this_ is_ poison. And why do I have this, you ask, well surely you're clever enough to figure that out for yourself." Then, he glanced at Jacques who was clearly looking for any chance of escape.

"It's time for you to pay the consequences for what you did to me," Olaf sneered.

"No!" I cried just as Olaf lunged at Jacques with the syringe. I ran over to the cell door and tried to open it so I could help him. Olaf was overpowering Jacques' struggles to defend himself as I screamed. "Get away! Don't hurt him!"

I moved to the side of the cell that separated my cell from Jacques's. Just then, Olaf lunged again with the needle and it was inches away from Jacques's skin. He had grasped Olaf's wrist and I knew any minute he wouldn't be able to hold on.

"Please!" he gasped, "Do whatever you like to me! Just please don't allow Jane to witness this!"

"Why should I listen to you?" Olaf sneered, "I think this will teach Jane a very valuable lesson. And a murder always needs at least one witness."

With a roar, Olaf took one last lunge and jammed the needle into Jacques's shoulder. My screams silenced as I watched Jacques go very, very pale as he fell back onto the hard, concrete floor.

"No." I half-whispered in despair as I fell shakily to my knees, my hands going limp from their grip on the bars of the cell. "No."

Jacques took one last look in my direction as his body began react violently to the poison. He shook uncontrollably, coughing up blood.

"Don't die," I managed through my tears, "please. Stay with me. Please."

"J-Jamie…" he gasped, and Olaf kicked him before he could utter the last word. But he still managed to mouth it to me. It looked like 'Murrie' or something. Then, his eyes turned scarlet as they rolled back into his head and with one last violent jerk, his body went limp. The last word he had tried to utter was still etched on his bloody lips.

I trembled as if the poison had affected me too. Dry sobs escaped my throat, mixed with my confusion and fear and despair. "No, no, no, no, no…"

"Jacques Snicket was a liar and he did a lot of very bad things," Count Olaf said, "he deserved to die."

"Jacques Snicket was innocent," I said, angrily. Overwhelmed by his death, my anger boiled and threatened to overflow. "And you had no right to kill him, you horrible, horrible monster!"

"Oh really?" Olaf sneered, his eyes shining so brightly that it almost hurt to look at them. "I'm the monster? I guess you're too foolish to realize that Jacques has committed quite the crime himself. Murder to be exact. You see, orphan, no one can ever truly be noble."

"He was noble enough," I whispered, so he wouldn't hear.

"Oh, and since you were a witness," Olaf said, leaning as close as he could to me. "I'd advise you never to speak of this again; to anyone, _including_ myself. If you do, I might just have to take it to that next level that we discussed earlier."

Olaf laughed coolly as he left the cell and stalked down the hall. Jacques' lifeless body was left behind, haunting me with his glossy dark eyes and pale skin sprayed with blood. I shuddered again and again and again. I couldn't escape from it. I was trapped under my own guilt that it was my fault that he died.

I eventually found myself crumpled on the ground as I wept. I tried as hard as I could to block the images from my mind. It was just so horrible, so _vulgar_. And I was so _useless_.

My mind clung on to those last two words. 'Jamie Murrie' I wasn't sure what they meant, but I figured it was someone's name. Maybe it was the name of another V.F.D. member. Well who's ever name it was, I was determined to figure out who this person was and why he or she was so important.

As I continued to gaze at his lifeless body, a thought occurred to me and I knew no matter what, I couldn't allow Jacques's life to be disposed of as if it were nothing. My thoughts lingered to what Jacques had said to me earlier today about not giving up on my talents. I may still hate myself for not saving Jacques, but I owed it to his memory to keep singing.

And so I took a deep, shaky breath and with my voice so quiet that only I could hear, I finished the song:

"_Well, I've been afraid of changin'_

_Cause I've built my life around you_

_But time makes bolder_

_Children get older_

_And I'm getting older too_

_Well, I'm getting older too"_

I took another shaky breath, trying to hold back my tears, but failing miserably.

"_So take this love and take it down_

_Yeah, and if you climb a mountain and you turn around_

_And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills_

_Well, the landslide brought it down"_

I was too overcome with sobs for the song to be articulate, but I continued anyways. I had to finish the song. For Jacques and maybe myself. Even as the song neared its end my sadness didn't release.

"_And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills_

_Well maybe..._

_Well maybe..._

_Well maybe..._

_The landslide'll bring you down"_

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><p><strong>(The song is Landslide the Dixie Chicks version)<strong>

**Review!**


	20. Deus Ex Machina

**Here's a new chapter! It starts with Klaus's POV after Detective Dupin appears. I kind of skipped that part but I'm sure you all pretty much already know what happens there.**

**Anyways… The Baudelaires and Jane are reunited once again! **

**Enjoy! R&R please! **

**Also, the chapter will be a little weird for the moment because for some reason I couldn't get to the editor thing on Doc Uploader. But hopefully I'll fix it soon.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine: Deus Ex Machina<strong>

_**Klaus Baudelaire**_

Detective Dupin brought us to the Deluxe Cell. I looked inside and saw the dirty floor, walls, and a single bench as furniture. It certainly was the dirtiest cell, but that wasn't what made me freeze. Sitting on the bench was someone who looked so familiar, yet so different. She had the same face with her small nose, her unforgettable blue eyes, and her small mouth.

But her hair…that long, blonde hair had been chopped off, her eyes no longer showed that same spark of happiness either. And she was covered in more bruises and cuts. She was curled up in the corner of the wooden bench, with a troubled look on her face. She didn't glance up when we approached. She was staring past us, at the cell across from her as if someone was there.

"What did you do to her?" I spat at Detective Dupin, gritting my teeth. He had removed his sunglasses and I glared up at his shiny eyes.

"I'm afraid poor, little Rapunzel has lost her hair," Dupin said as he tossed us into the cell.

"How dare you!" I snapped, angrily.

"The girl deserved what she got," Dupin said, sneered, "just like you three deserved what you'll get tomorrow."

"If you burn us at stake," Violet said, "then you'll never get your hands on the Baudelaire fortune."

"Don't worry," Dupin said in his raspy voice, "you won't be burned at the stake—not all of you, at least. Tomorrow afternoon, one of you will make a miraculous escape—if you consider being smuggled out of V.F.D. by one of my assistants to be an escape. The other two will burn at the stake as planned. You bratty orphans are too stupid to realize it, but a genius like me knows that it may take a village to raise a child, but it only takes one child to inherit a fortune." Dupin laughed harshly and began to shut the cell door. "But I don't want to be cruel," he said, giving us a smile that showed that was the exact opposite of his intentions. "I'll let you three decide who gets the honor of spending the rest of their puny life with me, and who gets to be burned at the stake. I'll be back at lunchtime for your decision. And in case you get stuck, I'm sure Jane will be more than happy to help you. Right, Jane?"

Jane didn't move an inch; her eyes were still glued to whatever she was seeing.

"Good," Olaf said, giving her a wicked smile. Then he closed the cell and left.

I went to Jane right away, I felt sick to my stomach seeing her this way. I slowly approached her, gently touching her shoulder. My touch made her flinch slightly but she didn't move her gaze, or anything else.

"Jane," I whispered, unable to keep tears from my eyes. This tore me apart in a way that I couldn't understand. It was if I was looking at her shell, just a ghost of the girl who meant so much to me for reasons I couldn't fully understand.

"Ja," Sunny said, gently biting her hand.

"Talk to us, Jane," Violet said, sitting beside her and putting a hand on her back, "you can tell us what happened."

"Nothing happened," Jane said in a hoarse whisper.

"You can trust us, Jane," I said, "It doesn't matter to us what happened."

Jane sighed. "All I can tell you is that I snuck into his tower," she said, looking like she was going to burst into tears. "The Quagmires too. Except, I was the only one who got caught."

"Is that why he chopped off your hair?" I asked. Jane pursed her lips and didn't answer, but I didn't need her confirmation.

"I'm so sorry, Jane," Violet said, softly.

Jane took a deep, shaky breath. Suddenly she seemed so fragile like at any moment she would shatter into a million pieces on the floor.

"Well," I said, thinking of a way to cheer Jane up, "if its any consolation, I think you still look pretty."

Jane mustered a sad smile. A flush of pink touched her cheeks slightly. "Thanks, Klaus."

"Did you get a chance to meet Jacques?" Violet asked, "He was sent to this jail cell after being convicted."

Jane just nodded. "But he wasn't here long," she said. "He was burned at the stake, right?"

I frowned. "No," I said, shaking my head, sadly, "Jane, he was murdered…by Count Olaf."

"Oh," Jane said, so quietly that I had to strain my ears to hear her. Tears filled her eyes and she glanced miserably up at us. "I-I'm so sorry. I should've—"

"It's okay, Jane," Violet said, "you didn't know."

Suddenly, Jane began to weep, more tears streamed from her eyes. Violet put an arm around her and Jane leaned her head on Violet's shoulder. She cried a cry that was filled with so much pain and grief that it nearly broke my heart. I knew no matter what, her pain was my fault. I had failed to protect Jane from Count Olaf. Maybe then, she wouldn't be so upset about her hair and being punished. As I watched her continue to sob relentlessly, there was a pang in my heart that told me she might be weeping for more than that reason.

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><p><em><strong>Jane Rumary<strong>_

"We shouldn't waste anytime worrying about me though," I said after a moment, wiping my eyes, "we need to figure out what to do. I don't care what he said about choosing only one of you, none of you are going to be burning at the stake or going in his clutches. And it sounds like contacting Mr. Poe isn't an option. He's never any help." I know helping the Baudelaires might make me get caught again, but in those last few moments of weeping, I had realized that it shouldn't matter what happened to me. the Baudelaires needed my help to get out of Olaf's clutches. I couldn't bare to see any of them die to on account of Count Olaf.

"That's why we're going to have to escape," Violet said.

"Frulk!" Sunny said.

"I know it's a jail cell," Violet said, "but there has to be some way to get out." Violet pulled her hair ribbon out of her pocket and tied up her hair, sounding confident. She began to examine the cell for anything useful.

"But how?" I asked, although I was determined to help, I wasn't entirely sure how I would go about helping them to escape. "I've been in this place for almost a couple days so far and I've come up with nothing."

"Do you think you could make another lockpick?" Klaus asked looking hopeful. "You made an excellent one when we lived with Uncle Monty."

"Not this time," Violet replied, "The door locks from the outside, so a lockpick would be of no use." Violet squeezed her eyes shut and then lifted her head to look up at the tiny barred window. We all followed her gaze.

"Boiklio?" Sunny asked, which meant, "Do you think you could make some more welding torches, to melt the bars? You made some excellent ones when we lived with the Squalors."

"Not this time," Violet said, again, "If I stood on the bench and Klaus stood on my shoulders and Jane stood on Klaus's shoulders and you stood on Jane's shoulders, we could probably reach the window, but even if we melted the bars, the window isn't big enough to crawl through, even for Sunny."

"Sunny could call out the window," Klaus said, "and try to attract the attention of someone to come and save us."

"Thanks to mob psychology, every citizen of V.F.D. thinks that we're criminals," Violet pointed out, "No one is going to come rescue an accused murderer and her accomplices."

"What about me?" I suggested, "I'm not accused of anything."

Klaus frowned at me. "I don't want Detective Dupin's attention to be on you this time," he said, "I can't bare to see you get hurt again."

I was about to protest when Violet spoke.

"Rats," she said.

I jumped. "Where?" Klaus said, looking startled.

"I don't mean there are rats in the cell," Violet said, "I just mean 'Rats!' I was hoping that bench would be made of wooden boards held together with screws and nails. Screws and nails are always handy for inventions. But it's just a solid, carved piece of wood, which isn't handy at all." Violet sat back down on the bench and sighed. "I don't know what I can do," she admitted.

Klaus, Sunny, and I exchanged nervous glances. Honestly, I had no idea what to do either. All I wanted to do was curl back up into a ball on the floor and never move again.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Klaus said.

"Maybe _you'll_ think of something, Klaus," Violet replied, looking at him. "There must be something you've read that could help us."

Klaus closed his eyes, trying to remember. "If you tilted the bench," he said, "it would be a ramp. The ancient Egyptians used ramps to build the pyramids."

"But we're not trying to build a pyramid!" Violet cried, in exasperation, "We're trying to escape from jail!"

"I'm just trying to be helpful!" Klaus cried. "If it weren't for you and your silly hair ribbons, we wouldn't have been arrested in the first place!"

"And if it weren't for your ridiculous glasses," Violet snapped back at Klaus, "we wouldn't be here in this jail!"

"Stop!" Sunny cried.

"Don't fight," I added, furrowing my eyebrows. Their fighting brought more pain to my heart. I couldn't bear to see them like this. Especially right now. "It's not a good time to turn against each other. We need to stick together if we're going to get out of here."

Violet and Klaus glared angrily at each other for a moment before they sighed.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Klaus," Violet said, gloomily, "Of course it's not your fault that we're here."

"It's not yours either," Klaus said, "I'm just frustrated. I can't stand knowing Olaf hurt Jane. And only a few hours ago we thought we might be able to find the Quagmires and Jane, and save Jacques."

"Well, we did find Jane, at least," Violet said, glancing at me with a small smile. Then, she was frowning again, "We were too late to save Jacques, though."

"I'm sorry," I said, shifting my gaze to the filthy floor of the cell. "I know its my fault he's dead."

"No it's not, Jane," Klaus said, touching my arm so I looked back up at his gentle brown eyes. "Why would you ever say that? We all know it was Olaf's fault. What we really need is Deus ex machina."

"What's that?" I asked.

Klaus gave me a smile and his hand fell back to his side as he launched into an explanation, "'Deus ex machina' is a Latin term that means 'the god from the machine'," he said, looking at all of us in turn. "It means the arrival of something helpful when you least expect it." He paused, looking at me sadly. "We need to rescue you, Jane, and the Quagmires from the clutches of a villain, and solve the sinister mystery surrounding us, but we're trapped in the filthiest cell of the uptown jail, and tomorrow afternoon we're supposed to be burned at the stake. It would be a wonderful time for something helpful to arrive unexpectedly."

Suddenly, we heard footsteps and then, Esmé, who was Officer Luciana unlocked and opened the heavy door of the Deluxe Cell, wearing a scowl beneath her visor. She was holding a loaf of bread and a pitcher of water. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't be doing this," she said, "but Rule #141 clearly states that all prisoners receive bread and water, so here you go." She thrust the bread and pitcher of water into Violet's hands before she left. Violet stared at the spongy looking bread and the pitcher of water that had a painting of seven crows flying in a circle.

"Well, at least we have some nourishment," she said. "Our brains need food and water to work properly."

Violet handed the pitcher of water to Sunny who took the first sip and the loaf of bread to Klaus. Klaus took a chunk of bread from it and handed me the loaf.

"You should eat, Jane," he said, "you look like you haven't been fed in a while."

I didn't want to seem greedy, but I really haven't eaten in a while and I've only been receiving bread in slices. I was so hungry that I had to force myself not to devour the whole loaf.

After I had eaten some of the spongy, yet satisfying bread, I looked up to find Klaus still staring at his piece of bread. His eyes were glistening with tears.

I held out the rest of the loaf to him. "Do you want the rest?" I asked. I couldn't stand to see him hurting.

Klaus shook his head. "I-I just remembered," he said, in a small, sad voice. "It's my birthday. I'm eleven today."

I gaped and suddenly, I felt even guiltier that I had all of that bread in my hands and Klaus only had a chunk of it. I laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, Klaus," Violet said, "It _is_ your birthday. We forgot all about it."

"I forgot all about it myself, until this very moment," Klaus said, "Something about this bread made me remember my tenth birthday, when our parents made that bread pudding."

"I remember," Violet said, smiling. "That was the worst desert we ever tasted."

"Vom," Sunny agreed.

"It was a new recipe that they were trying out," Klaus said, mostly for my ears. "They wanted it to be special for my birthday, but it was burned and sour and soggy. And they promised that the next year, for my eleventh birthday, I'd have the best birthday meal in the world." He looked at all of us, having to remove his glasses to wipe his teary eyes. "I don't mean to sound spoiled," he continued and looked directly at me, "especially since Jane never got anything for any of her birthdays. But I was hoping for a better birthday meal than bread and water in the Deluxe Cell of the uptown jail in the Village of Fowl Devotees."

"I'm sorry," I said, giving Klaus a hug, "And you don't sound spoiled at all. Besides…my previous birthdays weren't that bad."

Violet sat beside Klaus and put an arm around him. Sunny crawled onto Violet's lap and we all huddled together, crying for all of the terrible things that have happened to us since I was taken from my boarding school and their home was burned down.

"Klaus," Violet said giving Klaus a smile, when we were all finished crying, "Sunny, Jane, and I are prepared to offer you the birthday gift of your choice. Anything that you want at all in the Deluxe Cell, you can have."

"Thanks a lot," Klaus said, smiling as he glanced around the room, "What I'd really like is deus ex machina."

"Me, too," Violet said. She took the pitcher of water from Sunny.

"Happy birthday," I said, "I'm sorry that I don't have any deus ex machina."

Klaus smiled. "It's alright, Jane," he said, sweetly.

"Hold on a second," Violet said. She had moved over to the far end of the cell. She rubbed some dirt away to see what it was made of. Then she turned and smiled at us. "Happy birthday, Klaus," she said. "It looks like we do have deus ex machina afterall. Officer Luciana brought it to us."

"She didn't bring us a god in a machine," Klaus said, "She brought water in a pitcher."

"Brioche!" Sunny said, which meant, "And bread!"

"And by Officer Luciana, you mean Esmé Squalor," I said.

The Baudelaire's widened their eyes. "Officer Luciana is Esmé?" Klaus asked, shocked.

"You didn't know that?" I asked in surprise.

Violet shook her head. "No, we didn't," she said. "I suppose it makes sense though. Olaf always has an accomplice lurking nearby."

"Well, I guess it shouldn't be too surprising that you didn't notice," I said, "I was told who she really was and you haven't known her long enough to recognize her as easily as Olaf. But what were you saying about deus ex machina?"

"The bread and water are deus ex machina," Violet continued, "Now, get up off of the bench. We need the bench—it'll be handy after all. It's going to work as a ramp, just as Klaus said."

Violet put the loaf of bread against the wall so that it was directly under the barred window, and then tilted the bench toward the same spot. "We're going to pour the pitcher of water so it runs down the bench, and hits the wall," she said. "Then, it'll run down the wall to the bread, which will act like a sponge and soak up the water. Then, we'll squeeze the bread so the water goes into the pitcher, and start over."

"But what will that do?" I asked.

"The walls of this cell are made of bricks," Violet said, "with mortar between the bricks to keep them together. Mortar is a type of clay that hardens like glue, so a mortar-dissolver would loosen the bricks and allow us to escape. I think we can dissolve the mortar by pouring water on it."

"But how?" Klaus asked, "The walls are so solid, and water is so gentle."

"Water is one of the most powerful forces on earth," Violet replied, "Ocean waves can wear away at cliffs made of stone."

"Donax!" Sunny said, which meant, "But that takes years and years, and if we don't escape, we'll be burned at the stake tomorrow afternoon."

"No one's going to be burned," I said. I recalled when Count Olaf had burned all of my belongings. Including the photo of the Baudelaires and I. I shuddered as I recalled the flames that had devoured it. "I can't bear to lose any of you, especially not that way. It's bad enough that Jacques was killed." Every time I thought of watching Jacques Snicket being murdered in front of my eyes, I began to tremble and I couldn't breathe. I pinched myself to make the trembling stop, but it wasn't enough to hide how upset I was.

Klaus put a hand on my shoulder; seeing that I was upset even though he could never understand half of what I knew. I couldn't tell them what happened or Count Olaf would be furious. They just needed to get out of here. Besides, it wouldn't make a difference if I told them that I saw it happened because either way, Jacques was killed.

"Come on," Violet said, "we'd better stop entertaining the notion, and start pouring the water. We'll have to keep it up all night if we want to dissolve the mortar. I'll stand at this end, propping up the bench. Klaus, you stand next to me and pour the water, and Jane, you stand near the bread, and bring it back to me when it's soaked up all the water. Ready?"

We took our positions as Violet directed. Sunny was going to supervise us and give encouragement if we needed it. "Ready!" Klaus, Sunny, and I said simultaneously and began to operate the mortar-dissolver. Violet held the bench, Klaus poured the water, and I brought Klaus the soaked bread so he could squeeze it into the pitcher.

The effect the water had on the mortar slowly began to show. I pulled the flower from my pocket and looked at it as I continued working. It made me think of Jacques Snicket, of course, and although it brought me a great deal amount of pain, it also brought me a sense of security and hope. Someone, no matter where he was, was looking out for me. Maybe I would meet someone else who's related to me in some way too. I highly doubted it, but for the moment it was soothing to hope for a brighter future.

A thought occurred to me then, and my mind wandered to Lemony Snicket. It hadn't occurred to me before and it brought me more pain. If I was this devastated over Jacques' death, I couldn't imagine how Lemony Snicket would take it. I suddenly felt guiltier than I had before. How could I let Count Olaf kill him? Why didn't I think of a plan of escape like Violet? Now I was going to let him down, after I got mad at him for lying to me about his name.

I began to sob again. I just couldn't stop thinking about it and I still hated myself for allowing it to happen.

"Are you okay, Jane?" Violet asked, gently as she continued to prop up the bench for Klaus to pour the water.

"Um, y-yeah," I mumbled, "I'm just…"

"Don't worry, Jane," Klaus said, as he poured the water, "we'll get you out of here soon. And then you'll be free from Olaf and Esmé. Hopefully we'll be able to say the same for the Quagmires."

I nodded. "I hope you're right," I said, averting my eyes. The truth was, after everything that had happened since being kidnapped by Olaf, I wasn't entirely sure if it was worth trying to escape. Olaf would probably find me easily and get me back in his clutches somehow. And I didn't want to think about what would happen if I were caught again. Besides, I just didn't have it in me to attempt to escape. The important thing was to help the Baudelaires and Quagmires; I'll worry about myself once their safe.

Klaus smiled sadly at me and said, "I think I know what will cheer you up," and began to softly sing:

"_It's empty in the valley of your heart_

_The sun, it rises slowly as you walk_

_Away from all the fears_

_And all the faults you've left behind_

_The harvest left no food for you to eat_

_You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see_

_But I have seen the same_

_I know the shame in your defeat_

_But I will hold on hope_

_And I won't let you choke_

_On the noose around your neck_

_And I'll find strength in pain_

_And I will change my ways_

_I'll know my name as it's called again_

_Cause I have other things to fill my time"_

At this moment I chose to join in, remembering Jacques telling me to keep singing.

"_You take what is yours and I'll take mine_

_Now let me at the truth_

_Which will refresh my broken mind_

_So tie me to a post and block my ears_

_I can see widows and orphans through my tears_

_I know my call despite my faults_

_And despite my growing fears_

_But I will hold on hope_

_And I won't let you choke_

_On the noose around your neck_

_And I'll find strength in pain_

_And I will change my ways_

_I'll know my name as it's called again."_

Now, even Violet and Sunny began to sing with us. Despite how upset I was, I couldn't help but smile a little. I knew I should hold on to this moment because if I really wasn't intending to escape with them then, my time was ticking away.

"_So come out of your cave walking on your hands_

_And see the world hanging upside down_

_You can understand dependence_

_When you know the maker's hand_

_So make your siren's call_

_And sing all you want_

_I will not hear what you have to say_

_Cause I need freedom now_

_And I need to know how_

_To live my life as it's meant to be_

_And I will hold on hope_

_And I won't let you choke_

_On the noose around your neck_

_And I'll find strength in pain_

_And I will change my ways_

_I'll know my name as it's called again."_

The last few rays of the sun poured into the cell as we continued to work on our mortar-dissolving device and I noticed that some mortar had actually worn away a little.

"Grespo," Sunny said, speaking my mind. By this she meant, "Quite a bit of mortar has actually begun to wear away."

"That's good news," Klaus said. "If your invention saves our lives, Violet, it will be the best birthday present you've ever given me, including that book of Finnish poetry you brought me when I turned eight."

"Speaking of poetry," Violet yawned, "why don't we talk about Isadora Quagmire's couplets? We still haven't figured out where the triplets are hidden, and besides, if we keep talking it'll be easier to stay awake."

"Good idea," Klaus said.

"Couplets?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows, "How have you been receiving couplets from Isadora? Aren't they being kept hidden somewhere?"

"Yes," Klaus said, "but somehow they have managed to send us these couplets by crow. We think they're clues that will help us figure out where they are hidden."

"You don't have any idea where they are, do you?" Violet asked.

I shook my head. "I'm afraid I don't," I said, "Count Olaf has made sure that I won't be able to interfere with any of his plans. He thinks the Quagmires are a bad influence on me and he said they know too much. But I'm not allowed to know anything."

"That's alright," Klaus said, "maybe you could help us decipher these poems."

Then he began to recite each couplet from memory:

"_For sapphires we are held in here._

_Only you can end our fear._

_Until dawn comes we cannot speak._

_No words can come from this sad beak._

_The first thing you read contains the clue,_

_An initial way to speak to you._"

I listened to each couplet and as we continued to work I tried to think about what it could mean. But I probably wouldn't be of much help. I knew very little about the geography of the Village of Fowl Devotees, let alone what kind of places it contained that were big enough to hide two average sized children.

"Water might be one of the most powerful forces on earth," Violet said, as we heard the sound of crows—probably the crows that carried the couplets to the Baudelaires, "but poetry is probably the most confusing. We've talked and talked, and we still don't know where the Quagmires are hiding."

"We need another dose of deus ex machina," Klaus said. "If something helpful doesn't arrive soon, then we won't be able to rescue the Quagmires even if we do escape from this cell."

"Psst!"

I jumped and nearly dropped the loaf of bread that I was holding. The Baudelaires were startled too and Violet and Klaus nearly dropped what they were holding. We glanced up and could see the faint form of someone's face.

"Psst! Baudelaires!" the voice whispered. I backed slowly out of view. I knew it would be a big mistake if someone saw me; I knew it would infuriate Olaf if anyone knew where I was being hidden.

"Who is it?" Violet whispered back. "We can't see you."

"It's Hector," Hector whispered. "I'm supposed to be downtown doing the morning chores, but I sneaked over here instead."

"Can you get us out of here?" Klaus whispered.

There was silence as we waited for a reply and for a moment I thought Hector or whoever it was left. But then he sighed. "No," I heard him say, "Officer Luciana has the only key, and this jail is made of solid brick. I don't think there's a way I can get you out."

"Dala?" Sunny asked.

"My sister means, did you tell the Council of Elders that we were with you the night Jacques was murdered, so we couldn't have committed the crime?"

There was more silence. "No," Hector said. "You know that the Council makes me too skittish to talk. I wanted to speak up for you when Detective Dupin was accusing you, but one look at those crow hats and I couldn't open my mouth. but I thought of one thing I can do to help."

Klaus put down the pitcher of water to examine the mortar on the wall. Violet's invention appeared to be working efficiently, but could we really manage to escape before the Baudelaires are burned at the stake?

"What's that?" Klaus asked Hector.

"I'm going to get the self-sustaining hot air mobile home ready to go," he said. "I'll wait at the barn all afternoon, and if somehow you manage to escape, you can float away with me."

"Okay," Violet said, "We're trying to break out of this cell right now, so maybe we'll make it."

"Well, if you're breaking out now, I'd better go," Hector said, "I don't want to get in trouble. I just want to say that if you don't make it and you are burned at the stake, it was very nice making your acquaintance. Oh—I almost forgot."

Hector reached through the bars to drop a slip of paper down to the Baudelaires. "It's another couplet," he said, "It doesn't make sense to me, but maybe you'll find it helpful. Good-bye, children. I do hope I see you later."

"Good-bye, Hector," Violet said miserably, "I hope so too."

"Bye," Sunny muttered.

Hector paused and I think he expected Klaus to say something. But he was silent. I wandered if he was just too annoyed to respond, but when my head turned to look at him, he was staring at the couplet with a wide grin on his face. I knew that grin could only mean one thing. My heart rose with the hope that they may escape after all and so would the Quagmires. For now, it was all I could hope for.

**REVIEW! The song is The Cave by Mumford and Sons**


	21. Fowl Fountain

**New chapter! It would've been up sooner but there was a snow storm that made my town lose power for a week :(**

**REVIEW please!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten: Fowl Fountain<strong>

_Inside these letters, the eye will see,_

_Nearby are your friends, and V.F.D._

I stared at the words on the slip of paper, intensely as Klaus recited it aloud. But I still couldn't make sense of where the Quagmires were being hidden."

"Isn't it marvelous?" Klaus said, a grin still spread across his face. "Isn't it absolutely superlative?"

Wibeon," Sunny said, which meant "It's more confusing than superlative—we still don't know where the Quagmires are."

"Yes we do," Klaus said as he took the other couplets out of his pocket. "Think about all four poems in order, and you'll see what I mean."

So I looked at the couplets, all four of them, and tried to see what Klaus meant. I looked for any sort of code.

_For sapphires we are held in here._

_Only you can end our fear._

_Until dawn comes we cannot speak._

_No words can come from this sad beak._

_The first thing you read contains the clue,_

_An initial way to speak to you._

_Inside these letters, the eye will see,_

_Nearby are your friends, and V.F.D._

I thought about it, I thought hard. What stuck out to me as the biggest clue was the third couplet. "An initial way to speak to you." Could that mean the code is some kind of initial format like V.F.D. or something? Or did it mean first? Or maybe the code was in the first initial of every stanza. I looked at the poem again. I read the first letter of every sentence. 'F-O-U-N-T-A-I-N'. Fountain? Could the code really be 'fountain'? Maybe the Baudelaires will know of a fountain where the Quagmires could be hiding in.

"I see what you mean," I told Klaus, who smiled.

"Do you understand?" Klaus asked, his siblings.

"You two are better at deciphering poems than I am," Violet said, and Sunny nodded in agreement, "This poem doesn't make it any clearer."

"But you're the one who first suggested the solution," Klaus said. "When we received the first poem, you thought that 'initial' meant 'initials' like V.F.D."

"But you said that it probably meant 'first,'" Violet said. "The poems are the first way the Quagmires can speak to us from where they are hidden."

"I was wrong," Klaus admitted, which was a phrase, I never thought I would hear him say. "I've never been so happy to be wrong in my life. Isadora meant 'initials' all along. I didn't realize it until I read the part that said _'Inside these letters the eye will see.'_ She's hiding the location inside the poem, like Aunt Josephine hid her location inside her note, remember?"

"Of course, I remember," Violet said, "but I still don't understand."

"_'The first thing you read contains the clue,'_" Klaus recited, "We thought Isadora meant the first poem. But she meant the first _letter_. She couldn't tell us directly where she and her brother were hidden, in case someone else got the poems from the crows before we did, so she had to use a sort of code. If we look at the first letter of each line, and we can see the triplets' location."

"'_For sapphires we are held in here'_. That's F," Violet said, "_'Only you can end our fear'._ That's O."

"'_Until dawn comes we cannot speak_,'" Klaus said, "That's U. _'No words can come from this sad beak.'_ That's N."

"'_The first thing you read contains the clue,'_—T," I said. "_'An initial way to speak to you.'_—A."

"I! N!" Sunny cried in triumph and we all cried, "FOUNTAIN!"

"What fountain?" I asked.

"Fowl Fountain!" Klaus said, "The Quagmires are right outside that window, right in the center of uptown." He gestured out of the window.

"But how can they be in the fountain?" Violet asked, "And how could Isadora give her poems to the V.F.D. crows?"

"We'll answer those questions," Klaus replied, "as soon as we get out of jail. We'd better get back to the mortar-dissolver before Detective Dupin comes back."

"Along with a whole town of people who want to burn us at the stake, thanks to mob psychology," Violet said, shuddering.

Sunny crawled over to the wall and placed her hand on it to feel the dissolving mortar. "Mush!" she cried, meaning, "It's almost dissolved—just a little bit longer!"

Violet began to tie up her hair in a ribbon as she usually did when she was thinking hard about something. "I'm not sure we even have even a bit longer," Violet said, "Look how bright the sunlight is. The morning must almost be over."

"Then we need to really hurry," I said, picking up the loaf of bread. Klaus picked up the pitcher and we waited for Violet to tilt the bench, but she shook her head at us.

"No," she said, "We need to rethink. And I've been rethinking this bench. We can use it in another way, besides as a ramp. We can use it as a battering ram."

"Honz?" Sunny asked.

"A battering ram is a large piece of wood or metal used to break down doors or walls," Violet explained, "Military inventors used the method in medieval times to break into walled cities, and we're going to use it now, to break out of jail." Violet hoisted the bench onto her shoulder. "The bench should be pointing as evenly as possible," she said, "Jane, hold the middle. Sunny, get on Klaus's shoulders and hold the other end together. That might give us enough power for it to work."

We got into position and I gripped the middle of the bench tightly as I waited for further instructions.

"Now," Violet said, "let's step back as far as we can, and at the count of three, run quickly toward the wall. Aim the battering ram for the spot where the mortar-dissolver was working. Ready? One, two, _three!_"

We ran forward and hit the bench against the wall as hard as we could. It made a large thunking noise that should've been enough for the entire jail to collapse, but it only made a small dent on the bricks. "Again!" Violet commanded, "One, two, _three!_"

There was another 'thunk' as the bench collided with the wall again. Some crows were frightened by the noise, and fluttered wildly. Some of the bricks were dented again. There was also a brick with a long crack down the middle.

"It's working!" I cried, "The battering ram is working!"

"One, two, _minga!_" Sunny shrieked, and we smacked the battering ram against the wall again.

"Ow!" Klaus cried, stumbling a bit, and nearly dropping Sunny. "A brick fell on my toe!"

"Sorry," I said.

"Hooray!" Violet cried, and I gave her a funny look, "I mean, I'm sorry about your toe, Klaus, but if bricks are falling it means the wall is definitely weakening. Let's put down the battering ram and get a better look."

"We don't need a better look," Klaus said. "We'll know it's working when we see Fowl Fountain."

"One, two, three!" I cried this time as we rammed the battering ram against the wall, causing more bricks to fall. Then, after we absorbed our last ounces of strength, we ran at the wall again, hitting it with our strongest force yet; so hard that the bench split right in half. I staggered and fell down, the breaking wood had scratched my hands and I had been forced to let go. Klaus and Sunny, and Violet staggered too, still holding onto their half of the bench as they toppled over.

I watched the huge cloud of dust settle to the floor in awe and my mouth gaped further when it revealed a gaping hole in the cell wall, perfect for a quick get away. Dust covered me from head to toe and I sneezed.

"We did it!" I cried, standing up and stepping out of the cell into a courtyard with a fountain in the center. Fowl Fountain. "We escaped!" I smiled up at the sun, that instantly filled me with warmth. I realized how long it had been since I had been out in the sun and I missed it terribly. I breathed in the fresh air and did a little twirl.

"We're not out of the woods yet," I heard Klaus say as he exited the Deluxe Cell and walked past me towards Fowl Fountain with Sunny still on his shoulders. It was a very large, ugly looking fountain, shaped to look like a crow. Violet was next to me and we followed Klaus over to the fountain. He pointed to a swarm of crows flying a distance away. "The crows are heading downtown for their afternoon roost. The townspeople should arrive any minute now."

"But how can we get the Quagmires out any minute now?" Violet asked.

"Wock!" Sunny cried, meaning, "The fountain looks as solid as can be." We nodded in agreement, disappointed that we were faced with the new challenge of discovering how to open the fountain.

"Duncan and Isadora must be trapped inside the fountain," Klaus said, "Perhaps there's a mechanism someplace that opens up a secret entrance."

"But we cleaned every inch of this fountain for our afternoon chores," Violet said, "we would have noticed a secret mechanism while we were scrubbing all those carved feathers."

"Jidu!" Sunny shrieked meaning, "Surely Isadora has given us a hint about how to rescue her!"

Klaus placed Sunny on the ground and took out the four slips of paper with the couplets written on them. "It's time to rethink again," he said, spreading them out on the ground, "We need to examine these poems as closely as we can. There must be another clue about getting into the fountain."

_For sapphires we are held in here._

_Only you can end our fear._

_Until dawn comes we cannot speak._

_No words can come from this sad beak._

_The first thing you read contains the clue,_

_An initial way to speak to you._

_Inside these letters, the eye will see,_

_Nearby are your friends, and V.F.D._

"'_This sad bea_k'!" I exclaimed.

"You're right, Jane," Violet said, excitedly, "We thought she had meant the V.F.D. crows, but she probably means Fowl Fountain. The water comes out of the crow's beak, so there must be a hole there."

"We'd better climb up and see," Klaus said, "I can get on Violet's shoulders, Jane can get on mine, and Sunny can get on Jane's shoulders. We're going to have to be very tall to reach all the way up there."

Violet nodded, kneeling at the fountain's base. Klaus carefully got on Violet's shoulders, while I put Sunny on mine. Klaus helped me climb on his shoulders. Then, very carefully, Violet stood up and we struggled to maintain our balance. Plus, I already felt so weak from being malnourished. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold on.

"What do you see, Sunny?" Violet asked.

"Shize!" Sunny called down.

"Klaus, Jane, the beak isn't large enough to get inside the fountain," Violet said, desperately, "What can we do?"

"'Inside these letters the eye will see,'" I heard Klaus mutter to himself. "That's a strange way to put it. Why didn't she write 'Inside these letters I hope you'll see,' or 'Inside these letters you just might see'?"

I thought as hard as I could about what we should do too and after listening to Klaus muttering about that particular couplet, I tried to make sense of it myself. I thought about the wooden panel that had hid the control panel to those cameras that I found in Count Olaf's tower. Maybe it was hidden behind a loose strip of metal. But that would be much too obvious. Then, what? Ugh! I wanted to kick myself. Why couldn't I figure any of this out like the Baudelaires? Violet invented two devices and Klaus thought of the ramp and discovered the coded hiding place in the poem. What was wrong with me? My negative thoughts lingered to Jacques Snicket. I had failed him too by not forming a plan to rescue him. Like that man, Hector, who had been too afraid to stick up for the Baudelaires. I had been too much of a coward to save Jacques. Suddenly, I recalled the tattoo of an eye on his ankle that matched the one of Lemony Snicket's ankle and Count Olaf's too. It was strange that out of the three, Olaf, a villain, was probably the most obsessive about eyes or the V.F.D. insignia. I wondered why. If he were against V.F.D., wouldn't he try to eradicate eyes as much as possible? Or maybe Jacques was right when he said the meaning had been confused and now no one could be sure if it meant nobility or treachery. Maybe Olaf had something to do with that. As I thought about his obsession with eyes, I remembered the control panel again. It had been hidden behind that huge painting of that eye. Then, suddenly, everything made sense…just as we began to really wobble.

"The eye! It's the eye!" I exclaimed, but I wasn't heard over Violet's scream as her legs gave out. Klaus and I both fell onto the hard ground. I rolled and flinched at the stinging pain coming from my knees and elbows. They were badly scraped and bleeding. I would've made sure Violet and Klaus were okay or I would have found a way to clean up my fresh injuries, but I was more concerned about Sunny at the moment, who I had let go of.

"Sunny!" I called, from the ground.

"Sunny, where are you?" Klaus yelled from where he was crouched beside me. He got up off of the ground and I could see he too had received some bad scrapes on his elbows. He was squinting too, since his glasses had fallen off. But he still reached out a hand to help me up.

"Heni!" Sunny shrieked. We looked up and saw she was still clinging to the fountain with her teeth. Violet had already been watching poor Sunny struggle to hold on. She was waiting below where Sunny was dangling to try and catch her incase she did fall. Sunny tried to hold on with her teeth, but the water made the metal slippery and she was slowly sliding off. "Heni!" she cried again and slid closer to the eye of the bird.

"Sunny, the eye!" I cried, "It's probably a button!"

"Heni!" Sunny shrieked again and she bit hard on the eye, which as I expected, depressed. As the button depressed, the beak of the crow spread as wide as it could, each part flipping and lowering Sunny down with it. I helped Klaus find his glasses just as Sunny dropped into Violet's waiting arms. we exchanged relieved looks as two people climbed out of the beak filled with rushing water. Just as we expected, Isadora and Duncan stood before us. They were soaked and as they lowered themselves to the ground, we ran forward to embrace them. I wanted to tell them everything that had happened since the last time we spoke, which was quite some time ago. They needed to know about Spirit, Lemony Snicket, Jacques Snicket, and of course, Quigley. As we cheerfully greeted each other, I was about to mention it when I suddenly felt the hair on the back of my neck raise.

My head turned to look around me and that was when I saw him. Coming straight for us, still wearing the turquoise blazer and plastic shoes. Detective Dupin brandished his own torch and sickened me even more to realize who would have the honor of burning the Baudelaires at the stake.

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><p><strong>Again...Review!<strong>


	22. The Mob

**New chapter! **

**And as usual R&R please!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: The Mob<strong>

"We can't stay here," I warned, urgently, "Detective Dupin is coming down the street and it's already the afternoon. Sorry, but, we'll have time to reunite once we're safe."

We all glanced down the street at Detective Dupin who was nearing the courtyard.

"Do you think he sees us?" Klaus asked.

"I don't know," Violet said, "but let's not stick around to find out. The V.F.D. mob will only get worse when they've discovered we've broken out of jail."

"We know all about Detective Dupin," Duncan said quickly, "and we know what's happened to you."

"We heard everything that happened yesterday, from inside the fountain," Isadora said. "When we heard you were cleaning the fountain we tried to make as much noise as we could, but you couldn't hear us over the sound of all that water. And Olaf made clear to tell us Jane was being kept in the Deluxe Cell. By the way, we're awfully sorry for what he did to you. We tried to tell him it was our fault, but he wouldn't listen to us."

"I feel terrible too," Duncan said, "I should've stayed with you to make sure you were okay."

I shrugged. "It's okay," I said, "I don't blame either of you for what happened. It wasn't your fault."

"Well, we now have all the information about V.F.D.," Duncan said, as he ringed out the water in his soaked sleeve and pulled out his dark green notebook.

Isadora pulled out her black one. "The real V.F.D., that I, not the Village of Fowl Devotees."

Duncan blew on some of the damp pages of his notebook. "And we know the complete story of Jac—"

A loud cry interrupted Duncan and we ducked behind the fountain so we wouldn't be seen. I could see two elderly men wearing crow hats staring at the hole in the uptown jail.

One of them shrieked again. "They've escaped!" he cried. "Rule #1,742 clearly states that no one is allowed to escape from jail. How dare they disobey this rule!"

"We should have expected this from a murderer and her two accomplices," the other one said. "And look—they've damaged Fowl Fountain. The beak is split wide open. Our beautiful fountain is ruined!"

"Those three orphans are the worst criminals in history," the first one replied, "Look—there's Detective Dupin, walking down the street. Let's go tell him what's happened. Maybe he'll figure out where they've gone."

"You go tell Dupin," the second one said, "and I'll go call _The Daily Punctilio_. Maybe they'll put my name in the newspaper."

They left and we sighed in relief.

"Cose," Sunny said.

"That was too close," Klaus said. "Soon this whole district will be full of citizens hunting us down."

"Well, nobody's hunting us," Duncan said, "Isadora, Jane, and I will walk in front of you, so you won't be spotted."

"But where can we go?" Isadora asked. "This vile village is in the middle of nowhere."

"I helped Hector finish his self-sustaining hot air mobile home," Violet said, "and he promised to have it waiting for us. All we have to do is make it to the outskirts of town, and we can escape."

"And live forever up in the air?" Klaus said, frowning.

"We might have better luck in the air than we have down here," I said.

"It may not be forever," Violet said.

"Scylla!" Sunny said, meaning, "It's either the self-sustaining hot air mobile home, or being burned at the stake!"

"When you say it like that," Klaus said, "I'm convinced."

Violet looked around the courtyard. "In a place as flat as this one," she said, "you can see people coming from far away, and we're going to use that to our advantage. We'll walk along any empty street we can find, and if we see anyone coming, we'll turn a corner. We won't be able to get there as the crow flies, but eventually we'll be able to reach Nevermore Tree."

"Speaking of crows," Klaus said to Duncan and Isadora, "How did you manage to deliver those poems by crow? And how did you know that we would receive them?"

"Let's get moving," Isadora replied. "We'll tell you the whole story as we go along."

So we started moving, the Quagmires and I walked in front of the Baudelaires as we searched for an empty street. We found one and hurried from the courtyard.

"Olaf smuggled us away in that item from the In Auction with the help of Esmé Squalor," Duncan began and I recalled my own memories of that day. I still got a little uncomfortable when I was in closed spaces and that creepy looking mermaid statue still gave me nightmares. "And he kept Jane separated from us, but we still managed to find ways to talk." I noticed Duncan didn't mention Monty Kensicle or Lemony Snicket yet, for which I was glad. I didn't want to make Klaus upset if he knew I had seen him again. I remembered how he had been so worried that Monty Kensicle was bad and a liar. Well, he was sort of right about the liar part, but could he really be a bad person? Jacques Snicket never spoke of him as if he were.

"Then, of course, the three of us hatched a plan to sneak into Olaf's tower room," Isadora continued for Duncan, "we were looking for some evidence because we think having concrete proof will give us a good advantage if Olaf is ever caught. Duncan got away with a roll of film, but Jane got caught. I don't know what happened next, but I suppose Jane will tell us."

The Baudelaires were looking at me now. I bit my lip. I hated when I had to relive terrible memories. I sighed and began my part of the story.

"Well," I started, "the reason why I got caught was because when Duncan and I were finished, I found a photo had fallen on the ground." I told them about the nice looking couple in the photo. "Then, I realized…they weren't just any couple. They were my parents."

The Baudelaires gasped.

"Why would Olaf keep a photo of your parents in his tower room?" Violet asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know," I said, "he did tell me once that he knew all about my parents and the reason they left. Anyways, that stalled me and Olaf found me hiding in his closet. Well, he got really mad and…you know…" I gestured to the bruises on my arms that were slowly fading. "And then, he had those white faced women cut my hair and burned it. He burned everything; my clothes, my notebook, the photos we took at the Squalor's penthouse…" I swallowed, feeling a small lump in my throat. "Then, he locked me in the now empty bedroom for a while." I took a deep breath and continued with my story. "He said that once he had all of us in his clutches, he was only going to spare one Baudelaire and one Quagmire. Then, once he gets your fortunes he'll…finish you off and then, I'll be all alone with him…I'm scared…"

Klaus put a hand on my shoulder as we moved to another empty street to avoid some approaching citizens.

"No you won't," Klaus said, "because we're going to make sure you're far away from that horrible man. Once we can get to the Nevermore Tree and climb aboard with Hector, Count Olaf won't be able to reach us." I know Klaus was just trying to comfort me, which is why I didn't mention that Count Olaf could probably get his own hot air mobile home somehow and come after us later.

Instead I smiled. "Okay," I said.

"So go on with your story," Violet said.

"Well," I said, "after that it wasn't all too bad because…well…" I told them all about Spirit and how he had practically rescued me.

"Spirit can spell?" Klaus asked, raising his eyebrows.

I shrugged. "I figure that if he truly is a V.F.D. owl then, he's probably been through some kind of training," I said. "But anyways, it's the Quagmires turn. Everything that happened to me after that isn't very important."

"Throughout all of this," Duncan said, "Olaf learned that you three would be living with Hector at the outskirts of this town and he had his associates build that hideous fountain."

"Then he placed us inside," Isadora said, "and had us installed in the uptown courtyard, so he could keep an eye on us while he tried to hunt you down. We knew that you were our only chance of escaping."

Duncan peered around the corner we approached and signaled that it was safe before he continued the story. "We needed to send you a message, but we were afraid it would fall into the wrong hands. Isadora had the idea of writing in couplets, with our location hidden in the first letter of each line."

"And Duncan figured out how to get them to Hector's house," Isadora added. "He'd done some research about migration patterns in large black birds, so he knew that the crows would roost every night in Nevermore Tree—right next to Hector's house. Every morning, I would write a couplet, and the two of us would reach up through the fountain's beak."

"There was always a crow roosting on the very top of the fountain," Duncan said, "so we would wrap the scrap of paper around its leg. The paper was all wet from the fountain, so it would stick easily."

Isadora recited:

"_And Duncan's research was absolutely right._

_The paper dried off, and fell at night."_

"That was a risky plan," Violet said.

"No riskier than breaking out of jail, and putting your lives in danger to rescue us," Duncan said, looking at the four of us with gratitude. "You saved our lives—again."

"We wouldn't leave you behind," Klaus said, "We refused to entertain the notion."

Isadora smiled, patting Klaus's hand. "Meanwhile," she said, "while we were trying to contact you, Olaf hatched a plan to steal your fortune—and get rid of an old enemy at the same time."

"You mean Jacques," Violet said, "when we saw him with the Council of Elders, he was trying to tell us something. Why does he have the same tattoo as Olaf? Who is he?"

"His full name is Jacques Snicket," I said, taking a deep breath and trying to think about Jacques's death. I just couldn't get it out of my head and everytime I thought of it, I felt as if I were the one being stabbed with a sharp needle.

"That sounds familiar," Violet said, furrowing her eyebrows.

"I'm not surprised," Duncan said, "Jacques is the brother of—"

"Monty Kensicle," I finished, winking at the Quagmires.

Isadora and Duncan's eyes widened.

"You're not the only ones who know V.F.D. codes," I said.

"Monty Kensicle?" Klaus asked, "Isn't he that man you said was writing books about our lives?"

I nodded. "Don't be mad though, he is a good person, I'm sure of it." I said. "In fact he's a volunteer. Jacques Snicket was working alongside him on the books. And I trust them both because well…Jacques is my godfather. Or at least he was…" I pulled the blue flower out of my pocket. "He gave me this."

Their eyes were all wide like saucers. I thought it was slightly amusing that they seemed to be almost as surprised as I was when I found out.

"That doesn't make any sense," Duncan said, frowning.

"What do you mean?" I asked, "Jacques Snicket told me he was my godfather."

Duncan shook his head and flipped through his notebook to a page.

"But Jacques Snicket was the godfather of…" Duncan trailed off, his mouth still agape as he stared at me so intensely that it made me a little uncomfortable. "Impossible," I heard him say quietly. His eyes lit up then. "You can't be…"

"What is it, Duncan?" Isadora asked, sounding impatient.

He was still staring at me as he said, "You're J—"

But Duncan didn't get to finish saying who I was because a voice cried out,

"There they are!"

We jumped, realizing that we had been caught off guard from exchanging all of this information, for a man in plaid pants was leading a small group of torch-carrying townspeople straight towards us.

"There are the orphans!" the man in the plaid pants cried, "After them, citizens!"

"Who are those other three?" someone asked.

"Who cares?" a woman wearing a pink bathrobe said, and waved her torch. "They're probably more accomplices! Let's burn them at the stake, too!"

"Why not?" someone else said, "We already have torches and kindling, and I don't have anything else to do right now."

"Hey everyone!" the man in the plaid pants called down a street that wasn't visible to us. "They're over here!"

We had all been too terrified to move again. But once I heard the man call to the rest of the townspeople, I unfroze, the adrenaline beginning to pump in my veins.

"Run!" I cried and we took off, the Baudelaires leading the way to Hector's house.

"Lililk!" Sunny shouted meaning, "Don't look behind you! Let's just try to get to Hector and his self-sustaining hot air mobile hoe before the mob catches up with us and burns us at the stake!"

As the afternoon wore on, we raced through the streets of the village. We sometimes had to retrace our steps or hide behind shrubbery to escape the mob and make it to Hector's house. Finally, we reached the outskirts of town, but no matter how desperately we searched, Hector and his self-sustaining hot air mobile home weren't in sight.

"Where's Hector?" I cried, frantically.

"I don't know," Violet said, "He said he'd be at the barn, but I don't see him."

"Where can we go?" Isadora asked, looking around.

"We can't hide anywhere around here," Duncan said, "The citizens will spot us in a second."

"We're trapped!" Klaus said, his voice was hoarse with panic.

"Vireo!" Sunny cried, which meant, "Let's run—or in my case crawl—as fast as we can!"

"Maybe we should split up," I suggested, "Right, Klaus? It's like a school of fish when a shark attacks."

"Yes," Klaus agreed, "but usually there aren't this many sharks."

"Either way we won't be able to run fast enough," Violet said, she pointed behind us. "Look."

We followed her gaze and my eyes widened as enormous mob of angry citizens coming to burn us all at the stake. The only thing that took my attention away was the fact that Duncan was staring at me yet again with a look as though he had never seen a ten-year-old girl before. It kind of creeped me out, especially since he should be staring at the massive mob of angry citizens coming to kill us all. When I opened my mouth to ask what the deal was, he just shook his head at me and mouthed 'later'. I gazed at the crowd again, and suddenly began to wonder if there would be a 'later'.

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><p><strong>REVIEWW please!<strong>

**Next update will probably be the last chapter!**

_**Will Jane join Hector and the Quagmires aboard the self-sustaining hot air mobile home? Or will she stay with the Baudelaires, or be caught by Detective Dupin instead?**_


	23. The Invention

**New chapter! And the last for TVV but i'll update soon!**

**R&R!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve: The Invention<strong>

"Burn the orphans! Burn the orphans!" chanted the mob of citizens, including Esmé still disguised as Officer Luciana who led the crowd. She was holding something underneath a white cloth and pointing at us. The only person who was missing was Detective Dupin, who I would have expected to be leading the crowd.

I must have done this subconsciously out of shock or something, but all of the sudden I felt my hand was intertwined with Klaus's. Klaus realized it too and we both pulled away sharply. I tried my best to hide my blush as I turned my attention back to the mob.

"There they are!" Officer Luciana cried, "They have nowhere else to go!"

"She's right!" Klaus cried. "There's no way to escape!"

"No," I cried, "We have to escape—you have to escape. Maybe I can distract them while the rest of you run."

"Jane, we're not leaving you behind," Duncan said and the others nodded in agreement.

"Machina!" Sunny shrieked.

"There's no sign of deus ex machina, Sunny," Violet said, and I was surprised to see her eyes filling with tears. I knew once Violet gave up, we really were doomed. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out more horrific images of Jacques lying dead on the ground. That couldn't happen to the Baudelaires and Quagmires too. They were all I had left in this world. I knew that somehow Count Olaf would figure out a way to get one Baudelaire and one Quagmire out of being burned, and I was afraid to find out who it would be. "I don't think anything helpful will arrive unexpectedly."

"Machina!" Sunny cried again and pointed at the sky. I looked up and my heart rose at the sight of what must be Hector's self-sustaining hot air mobile home, floating over our heads. I didn't expect the invention to be as wondrous as it appeared flying in the sky. He flew the invention closer to the ground.

"Here I am!" Hector called. "And here it is, like a bolt from the blue! Violet, your improvements are working perfectly. Climb aboard, and we'll escape this wretched place." He flicked a bright yellow switch that released a rope ladder, which unfurled to the ground where we were standing. "Because my invention is self-sustaining," he explained, "it isn't built to come back down to the ground, so you'll have to climb up this ladder."

Duncan caught the end and held it out for Isadora to climb up. "I'm Duncan Quagmire," he said quickly, "and this is my sister, Isadora."

"And I'm Jane Rumary," I added.

"Yes, the Baudelaires have told me all about you," Hector said, "I'm glad you're coming along. Like all mechanical devices, the self-sustaining hot air mobile home actually needs several people to keep it running."

"Aha!" the man in the plaid pants cried, who was really beginning to get on my nerves. Isadora began to quickly climb the ladder and Duncan followed right behind her. The mob had begun to march towards us again. "I knew it was a mechanical device! All those buttons and gears can't fool me!"

"Why, Hector!" someone who was wearing one of those crow-hats said, "Rule #67 clearly states that no citizen is allowed to build or use any mechanical devices."

"Burn him at the stake, too!" cried the women in the pink bathrobe. "Somebody get some extra kindling!"

Hector took a deep breath and called to the mob. "Nobody's going to be burned at the stake," he said, firmly. Isadora reached the top and joined Hector in the control basket. "Burning people at the stake is a repulsive thing to do!"

"What's repulsive is your behavior," another man said who was wearing a crow hat. "The children have murdered Count Olaf, and you have built a mechanical device. You have both broken very important rules!"

"I don't want to live in a place with so many rules," Hector responded, quietly, "or a place with so many crows. I'm floating away from here, and I'm taking these six children with me. The Baudelaires, the Quagmires, and Jane have had a horrible time since their parents died. The Village of Fowl Devotees ought to be taking care of them, instead of accusing them of things and chasing them through the streets."

"But who's going to do our chores?" another man asked, wearing a crow hat too. "The Snack Hut is still full of dirty dishes from our hot fudge sundaes."

"You should do your own chores," Hector said, as he lifted Duncan aboard, "or take turns doing them according to a fair schedule. The aphorism is 'It takes a village to raise a child,' not 'Three children should clean up after a village.' Baudelaires, Jane, climb aboard. Let's leave these terrible people behind us."

Violet began her ascension. Sunny was shimmering up the ladder after Violet.

"Jane, you go first," Klaus said, he was still on the ground, clutching the ladder for me.

I glanced at him and then back at the crowd. All I could think of as I stared was the horrifying memory Jacques Snicket being murdered before my eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut again.

Even though I didn't tell any of the Baudelaire's, Klaus looked at me in a way that I could tell he knew something was wrong.

"Come on," he said, touching my shoulder gently, "We'll be safe when we get to the top. And when we're up high, Olaf won't be able to hurt you anymore. I don't know what I can do about your hair, but I'm sure it will grow back. I meant what I said before about how you still look just as pretty. You always do."

I gave him a small smile, feeling tears in my eyes. "Even if I died my hair or shaved it all off?"

Klaus gave me a funny look and uttered a small laugh. "Even then."

"Klaus," I said, quickly, "I know this is a bad time, but I've been wanting to tell you something for a while and if I don't say it now, I don't know if I'll have another chance to."

"We'll have plenty of time to talk once we're up there," Klaus said, "we may not be safe up there forever, but at least until we're ready to face this world again."

I sighed and grabbed hold of the ladder. "I don't think I'll ever be ready," I whispered, but I turned and climbed up the ladder after Sunny. Klaus followed behind me.

Hector raised the hot air mobile higher just as the crowd reached the end. "They're getting away!" a crow-hatted woman cried in frustration. She jumped to try to reach the edge of the ladder, but it was too high for her to reach. "The rulebreakers are getting away! Officer Luciana, do something!"

"I'll do something, all right," Officer Luciana growled and tossed the blanket she was holding to the ground. We all looked below us at the object in her hands. It had a bright red trigger and four long, sharp hooks. "You're not the only one with a mechanical device!" she called to Hector, "This is a harpoon gun that my boyfriend bought for me. It fires four hooked harpoons, which are long spears perfect for popping balloons."

"Oh no!" Hector said, glancing down at us as we hurriedly climbed.

"Raise the self-sustaining hot air mobile home, Hector!" Violet called. "We'll keep climbing!"

"Our Chief of Police is using a mechanical device?" the woman in the pink bathrobe asked, sounding appalled. "That means she's breaking Rule #67, too."

"Officers of the law are allowed to break rules," Luciana said as she aimed the harpoon at Hector. "Besides, this is an emergency. We need to get those murderers down from there." The citizens looked confused, but Officer Luciana just smiled and pulled the harpoon gun's trigger. One of the harpoons flew straight for the hot air mobile home. Hector moved the machine so it didn't hit any balloons but it ended up striking a metal tank on the side of one of the baskets, leaving a gaping hole.

"Drat!" Hector cried. Purple liquid poured from the hole now. "That's my supply of cranberry juice! Baudelaires, Jane, hurry up! If she causes any serious damage, we're all doomed!"

"We're coming as fast as we can," Klaus cried. Hector maneuvered the invention higher in the air, causing the ladder to shake and slowing us down.

Another harpoon was fired and landed in the sixth basket. Brown dust fluttered to the ground along with some metal tubes. "She hit our supply of whole wheat flour," Hector cried, "and our box of extra batteries!"

"I'll hit a balloon with this one!" Luciana hollered. "Then you'll fall to the ground, where we can burn you at the stake!"

"Officer Luciana," a crow-hatted elderly man said, "I don't think you should break the rules in order to capture people who have broken the rules. It doesn't make sense."

"Hear, hear!" called out a townsperson, "Why don't you put down the harpoon gun, and we'll walk over to Town Hall and have a council meeting."

"It's not cool," A loud, scratchy voice called out, making chills run up my spine. It scared me so much that I had to stop for a second to make sure I didn't let go.

"Keep going," Klaus said to me, "Hurry, and we'll be far away from him. I promise."

"To have meetings," Detective Dupin continued. There was a rumble and the crowd parted for him. Dupin rode through the crowd on a turquoise motorcycle that matched his blazer. He was grinning in triumph. I shuddered; I could barely look at him without flinching. I knew if I didn't get away, I would be in a whole lot of trouble.

"Detective Dupin is using a mechanical device too?" a crow-hatted man asked, "We can't burn everyone at the stake."

"But Detective Dupin isn't a citizen," another one of them pointed out, "so he's not breaking Rule #67."

"But he's riding through a crowd of people," the man wearing plaid pants said, "and he's not wearing a helmet. He's not showing good judgment, that's for sure."

Detective Dupin didn't pay attention to him and stopped beside Officer Luciana. "It's cool to be late," he said, and snapped his fingers. "I was buying today's edition of _The Daily Punctilio_."

"You shouldn't be buying newspapers," said a crow-hatted man. "You should be catching criminals."

"Hear, hear!" several people said in agreement, but the crowd was beginning to look uneasy. Their craving to burn us at the stake seemed to be fading as the afternoon wore on and a few people lowered their torches.

"Leave me alone, you crow-hatted fool," he said and snapped his fingers. "It's cool to fire away, Officer Luciana."

"It certainly is," Luciana said. She was aiming her weapon up towards the sky but at that moment, a murder of crows came flying through the sky. Directly where the ladder was. We could barely see a thing as the crows made a swarm of darkness around us. I tried to climb despite them, but as I stepped up a crow nearly hit me. All I could do was hang on and pray that Luciana would miss.

"Children!" Hector called to us. "Hang on for dear life! I'm going to fly even higher, over the crows!"

Sunny shrieked something, but I couldn't hear her over the sudden sound of another harpoon being fired. It flew through the air. The rope ladder jerked suddenly and then twisted in the air.

"The harpoon hit the ladder!" Isadora called, "The rope is coming unraveled!"

I stared up at the ladder and got a glimpse of what Isadora was talking about. I gasped and suddenly, my hope vanished. I stared at the ground, tears in my eyes. I knew now what would happen. The one Baudelaire will be spared from death and Olaf would get what he wanted.

"Hurry!" I called up desperately to the Baudelaire's, "Keep climbing so we can reach the basket before we fall!"

At the same time Duncan was yelling, "Climb faster! Climb faster!"

"No." Violet said to us, "We can't do it," she continued, "If we keep trying to climb up, we'll fall to our deaths. We have to climb down."

"But—" Klaus said.

"No," Violet said, and a tear fell down her cheek. "We won't make it, Klaus."

"Yoil!" Sunny said.

"Come on," I said too, unable to stop my tears, "we can make it."

"No," Violet said again, looking us all in the eye. So in frustration and despair, we climbed down the ladder until it finally dropped, bringing us safely to the ground.

"Hector, maneuver your invention back down!" Isadora cried, "Duncan and I can form a human ladder if we lean out of the basket! There's still time to retrieve them!" The Baudelaire's and I were struggling to untangle ourselves from the ladder.

"I can't," Hector said, sadly, as he looked down at us. "This machine wasn't built to come down."

"There must be a way!" Duncan cried, but the invention only floated farther away.

"We could try to climb Nevermore Tree," Klaus said, "and jump into the control basket from its highest branches."

Violet shook her head. "The tree is already half covered in crows," she said, "and Hector's invention is flying too high." She glanced up at where the hot air mobile home was floating away and cupped her hands to her mouth so they would hear her. "We can't reach you now!" she cried. "We'll try to catch up with you later!"

"How can you catch up with us later," Isadora called, her voice faint, "in the middle of the air?"

"I don't know!" Violet admitted. "But we'll find a way, I promise you!"

"In the meantime," Duncan called back to us, "take these!" Duncan and Isadora held their notebooks over the side of the basket. "This is all the information we have about Count Olaf's evil plan, and the secret of V.F.D., and Jacques Snicket's murder, and about who I think Jane really is!" He sounded as if he were crying. "It's the least we can do!" he called.

"Take our notebooks," Isadora called, "and maybe someday we'll meet again!"

They dropped their notebooks out of the invention as they called, "Goodbye!" and that was when I realized that I forgot to tell them about Quigley.

"Wait!" I called to them as loud as I could just as another harpoon was fired and hit both notebooks, making a loud ripping noise and bits of paper were flying everywhere. The Quagmires cried out in frustration but I wasn't finished.

"You were wrong about the fire!" I cried, "There—"

"That's not important right now!" Duncan called, but his voice grew faint and I could barely hear him, "What's important is…Murrie…"

At that moment, the hot air balloon floated too high for any of us to hear much else.

"Tesper!" Sunny cried, which meant, "Let's try to gather up as many pages of the notebooks as we can!"

"If 'Tesper' means 'All is lost,' then that baby isn't so stupid after all," Detective Dupin sneered. He had reached us now and I really wished that I had taken the risk of climbing up that rope ladder. Dupin opened his blazer and I cringed as more of his pale and hairy chest was exposed, and took a rolled-up newspaper out of a pocket inside. He looked down at us as if we were four bugs he was about to squish. "I thought you'd want to see _The Daily Punctilio_," he said, as he unrolled the newspaper to show us the headline, which said, "BAUDELAIRE ORPHANS AT LARGE!" Below were three drawings that resembled each of the Baudelaires.

He removed his sunglasses so he could read the newspaper. "Authorities are trying to capture Veronica, Klyde, and Susie Baudelaire," he read aloud, "who escaped from he uptown jail of the Village of Fowl Devotees, where they were imprisoned for the murder of Count Omar."

He gave us all a nasty smile and threw the newspaper on the ground. "Some names are wrong, of course," he said, "but everybody makes mistakes. Tomorrow, of course, there will be another special edition, and I'll make sure that _The Daily Punctilio_ gets every detail correct in the story about Detective Dupin's supercool capture of the notorious Baudelaires."

He leaned down so close to us that I could smell his awful breath. "Of course," he said, in a quiet voice so only we could hear him, "one Baudelaire will escape at the last minute, and live with me until the fortune is mine. The question is, which Baudelaire will that be? You still haven't let me know your decision."

"We're not going to entertain that notion, Olaf," Violet said bitterly.

Dupin looked at me now with his shiny eyes. I tried my best to be like Violet and stand my ground. "And _you_," Dupin nearly spat, "I thought you would have at least learned by now that you should not _help_ murderers escape."

"They're not murderers," I retorted, frowning at him, "_you_ are."

"And where's your proof, you pathetic little girl?" Olaf growled, "See, unlike you, I made sure I had evidence before I started making accusations. Afterall, accusations can be very, _very_ dangerous when they're directed at the wrong people."

I began to open my mouth to say that I didn't need proof because I'd witnessed it with my own eyes, but I was interrupted by one of the crow-hatted men.

"Oh no!" The crow-hatted man pointed to a spot on the ground and I saw a small, slender form sticking out of the ground amongst the fluttering pages of the Quagmire notebooks. The last harpoon was pinning a V.F.D. crow to the ground, its mouth was open in pain.

"You have harmed a crow!" the woman in the pink bathrobe cried in horror, pointing at Officer Luciana. "That's Rule #1! That's the most important rule of all!"

"Oh, it's just a stupid bird," Detective Dupin said as he turned to look at the shocked citizens.

"A stupid bird?" one of the crow-hatted men repeated, angrily, "_A_ _stupid bird?_ Detective Dupin, this is the Village of Fowl Devotees, and—"

"Wait a minute!" someone interrupted. "Look, everyone! He has only one eyebrow!"

Detective Dupin reached into his blazer pocket to put them back on again. "Lots of people have one eyebrow," he said, but the crowd ignored him.

"Let's make him take off his shoes," the man with the plaid pants called and a crow-hatted woman knelt to grab hold of one of Dupin's feet. "If he has a tattoo, let's burn him at the stake!"

"Hear, hear!" a group of townspeople agreed.

"Now, wait just a minute!" Officer Luciana said, putting the harpoon gun down and glancing at Dupin in concern.

"And let's burn Officer Luciana, too!" the woman in the pink bathrobe said. "She wounded a crow!"

"What about the blonde one?" someone asked. "Should we burn her too?"

"Hear, hear!" several people cried.

"But she didn't break any rules," someone said.

"She did help the Baudelaires escape jail," someone else said, "so she's an accomplice. Let's burn her too!"

"We don't want all these torches to go to waste!" a crow hated man cried.

"Hear, hear!"

Detective Dupin was opening his mouth to speak and I could see he was desperately searching for something to say to fool V.F.D.'s citizens. But then he just closed his mouth and kicked the crow-hatted woman holding on to his shoe. The mob gasped as the woman toppled backwards to the ground, still holding Dupin's plastic shoe. Her crow-hat fell off too.

"It's the tattoo!" someone cried, pointing at the eye on Count Olaf's left ankle.

Count Olaf roared and before I had time to blink, a bony hand covered my mouth, and I was being dragged towards the motorcycle.

"No!" I screamed and kicked as I tried my best to escape. I reached out desperately for the Baudelaires, scared that Count Olaf would hurt me really badly again. "Klaus!"

But I didn't need to ask because Klaus was already reaching for my arm. He grabbed hold and halted Olaf in the process for a moment. "You're not going to hurt her again, you horrible man!"

I squirmed in Count Olaf's grasp, which only seemed to get tighter the more I struggled.

"I may have lost the Quagmire fortune and the Baudelaires have gotten away because of you, but I won't let _you_ get away too," Olaf growled. Then, he thrust a kick into Klaus's stomach before I was hurled on the motorcycle behind him. Olaf started the engine. "Hop aboard, Esmé!" he called to Officer Luciana. She took off her motorcycle helmet with a smile.

"It's Esmé Squalor!" some crow-hatted man cried. I continued to squirm in his grasp and Klaus was still recovering from the blow he received. "She used to be the city's sixth most successful financial advisor, but now she works with Count Olaf!"

"I heard the two of them are dating!" the woman wearing the pink bathrobe said in horror.

"We _are_ dating!" Esmé cried, triumphantly as she climbed on the motorcycle behind me. She tossed her helmet to the ground.

"Violet, Klaus, Sunny," I called, tears running down my cheeks now, "V.F.D. really means volunteer…" Esmé's hand clamped over my mouth and I tried to move so I could tell them.

"So long, Baudelaires!" Count Olaf called, as he began to zoom through the angry crowd. "I'll find you again, if the authorities don't find you first!" Then, he added, "Say goodbye to your friend, it could be the last time you see her!" I managed a small wave.

Olaf drove off and I turned to watch, as the Baudelaires became dots. The mob looked like a giant blob as I watched them move to the crow's aid. I hoped they would be okay and escape from being burned at the stake. As we drove on, I tried as best as I could to drown out Olaf yelling at me for helping the Baudelaires escape prison and letting the Quagmires get away too. Instead, I looked out over the horizon and I wished more than anything that Klaus had been right this time. I tried to pretend for a second that we had made it to the top of the self-sustaining hot air mobile home. And that maybe I wasn't being taken away from the only family I had in this world. I remembered the song the Baudelaires and I had sung as we worked our way out of prison. Even though I knew what was up ahead would get bumpy, I decided I would hold on to the hope that we would see each other again. Including the Quagmires.

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><p><strong>Despite the ending, I hope you liked it. Also, i'm sorry to disappoint <em>SideshowJazz1<em> with Jane still being in Olaf's clutches but i promise there'll be a reunion in THH. And just like with the Baudelaires, more secrets having to do with Jane will soon be revealed!**

**Don't forget to Review!**

**I'll update as soon as i can! :)**


	24. THH: The Eye

**Here's chapter one of THH!**

**And of course a summary: **

**Jane is still in Count Olaf's clutches, while her friends, the Baudelaires are wanted for a crime they didn't committ. As Count Olaf and Esmé Squalor plot their latest scheme to steal the Baudelaire fortune and the Baudelaire file, Jane discovers some very startling news that could change everything. In the midst of it all, Count Olaf disguised as Mattathias carries out his new plan that may result in the loss of someone very dear to Jane. Jane and the Baudelaires will soon learn that danger lurks around every corner, even at Heimlich Hospital.**

**R&R please! And Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: The Eye<strong>

The dust rose in a cloud of smoke as I walked. The building was just up ahead, seeming to stand out amongst the flat countryside, even in the dim light from the setting sun. A sign above the door read "_Last Chance General Store_" and something made me feel as if this was my last chance too for some reason.

"Keep up, Blondie!" Olaf growled and the bald man took the honor of giving me a sharp blow in the back, making me stumble. I regained my balance and hastened my pace so that I was walking closely behind them.

After Count Olaf had driven away on his motorcycle with Esmé pinning me to my seat, he had decided to make a quick stop at his house. Of course, he was furious about all of the _bad_ things I did to foil his plans yet again. When he was finished punishing me by practically beating me senseless, I was locked away in his tower until everyone was ready to leave. I wasn't even sure where we were headed, but I didn't ask because Olaf forbids me to speak. But that wasn't the worst of it. I think I was getting a fever or the flu or something because I felt so nauseous, my head-ached, and I was exhausted too.

Count Olaf reached the store first and swung open the door, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that I was with them. Esmé Squalor caught the door after Count Olaf, her long crimson colored fingernails looking like bloodstains against the door's wooden surface. She scowled at me as I reached the door and then, I was suddenly falling over the threshold because someone pushed me. I looked up and Esmé brushed past as the bald man entered, heaving a kick at me as he passed, nearly stepping on my hand too, but I moved it quickly out of the way.

I got up off of the floor, brushing the dirt off of my pants, making a note of the lump in my pocket where my notebook was. I had already detailed the events that occurred after the Baudelaires were locked in that filthy jail cell with me at the Village of Fowl Devotees all the way up to when I was taken away from them once again.

I thought about the last time I'd seen them. We were escaping the V.F.D. mob that was trying to burn us at the stake by climbing aboard Hector's self-sustaining hot air mobile home with the Quagmires. The Quagmires managed to reach the invention, but Esmé shot a harpoon at the invention, which severed the rope ladder. The Baudelaires and I were forced to climb down, the Quagmires floating away with Hector. I thought about the last thing Duncan had said to me.

"…Murrie…" he had called to me, but floated too far away for me to hear the rest. This brought back the memory of Jacques Snicket's last words, which was something "Murrie." I couldn't remember what the first word had been and it still pained me whenever I thought about Jacques. Whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was his cold, lifeless body.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I glanced up then, and a small smile appeared on my face when I found myself staring right at them. That was before I saw the words '_Wanted_' inscribed above their pictures. My smile vanished. I couldn't stand knowing that Count Olaf had gotten away with framing my friends with such a horrible crime.

A strong wave of nausea came on then, and I began to get fidgety as I tried to keep it in. Maybe I would be allowed to use the bathroom before we set out again. I wasn't sure how long it would be until we reached our destination.

I followed their voices to the front desk where a short man was having a conversation with them.

"What can I do for you?" the man asked.

"I'm just visiting the country with my family," Olaf lied as he put an arm around Esmé and placed a hand on the top of my head.

"That's very nice to hear," the man said, "she looks a lot like you." He said to Esmé. Count Olaf looked at Esmé who scowled at me. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Really?" Esmé said, "Well, she's not really our daughter. She's adopted."

"Oh, my mistake," the man said, "well I'm glad you're here. We rarely get visitors. Though, I should warn you that it's very dangerous around here during this time, especially for the girl."

"And why is that?" Olaf said after giving me a nasty smile.

"Well, you just missed it," the man was saying, "those three children who killed that Count were in here just a few hours ago. They were here all last night, but I didn't realize who they were until Lou showed up with the morning newspaper."

"Didn't you go after them?" Count Olaf asked, his eyes shining brightly to know that the Baudelaires were nearby.

"We chased them all through the store," the man replied, "but they escaped. When we got outside they were nowhere in sight, boy they were fast. Just knowing they're still out there gives me the creeps. We don't want any one else dying because of them. There's a hospital not too far from here."

"Of course not," Esmé said, "we're glad you told us the news. We've been hoping to catch those criminals."

"Perhaps they're in the hospital as we speak," Olaf said, "could you give us directions?"

"Of course," the man replied and told them what route to take.

"We'd better go then," Olaf said when the man finished and started for the door.

"Wait," I squeaked.

"What do _you_ want?" he said, scowling at me.

"I need to use the bathroom," I said, quickly.

"I'm not waiting for you to go the bathroom," Olaf said, "I am a very busy man, and I don't have time for such nonsense. Let's go so we can find those murderers."

"But I really have to go," I said and clamped a hand over my mouth.

Olaf leaned down so that he was close enough for me to smell his revolting breath, which made me feel worse. "You'd better not try anything while you're in there," he growled. "Just because I've nearly discovered the location of your horrible friends, doesn't mean _you'll_ be seeing them any time soon. Now make it quick or I'll send Esmé in to grab you."

I just nodded, not really paying attention to what he said as I hurried to the bathroom. When I was finished with being sick, I washed my hands in the sink and rinsed my mouth with water. I gazed up at the tiny mirror hanging above the sink. As I looked at my appearance, I realized I hadn't seen myself in a mirror since I was living with the Squalors and I didn't look good.

My face was so pale that for a moment I suspected it was only the lighting, but I didn't think lights could make you look as pale as a sheet. Being ghostly white only made the many dark bruises on my skin stand out as well as the dark circles under my eyes. My skin was papery and cracked; my lips so chapped that they burned. I lifted up my shirt so I could examine the damage there. Surprisingly, my it was worse. I could see right through to my ribs. But the worst part that almost made me sick again was my hair. _My hair_. My long, blonde,_ healthy_ hair was now shortened to above my ears. Of course, I was already aware of my shortened hair, but seeing it for in a mirror for the first made tears fill my eyes. I tried to tell myself that it wasn't that bad, but it was. My hair had split ends, it felt too thin, and for a moment I thought it was falling out.

I looked away from my reflection, willing myself not to cry as I stared out the window above the toilet. I noticed that it looked big enough for a skinny ten-year-old to fit through. I lingered on that thought, wondering if I should take the chance. But then I realized that if I did attempt to escape, I would be an easy target. The land was way too flat and there was nowhere to hide. I would be spotted from a mile away. Besides, where would I go? I knew my only way of finding the Baudelaires was if I stayed in Olaf's clutches because based on previous experience, he could always find them, no matter where they went.

The door of the bathroom swung open with a thud, making me jump.

"If you're hoping for a chance to escape, I'm afraid you won't get one," Olaf growled, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me from the bathroom. "We're in the middle of nowhere and it would be too easy to spot you."

"I wasn't going to escape," I said, "Besides, I don't have anywhere to go."

Olaf gave me a wicked smile. "You're right for once," he said, "you don't have anywhere to go and you never have. You're all alone in the world now so you'd better get used to it." He shoved me towards the exit and we left the store.

I got into the car, sitting in my usual spot, which was crammed in the spot where everyone's feet were. It was either that or having to sit on the bald man's lap and he was starting to get even creepier around me now. In fact, I didn't realize until now, but he had hid a bag of chips under his shirt and pulled it out now. All the villains snacked on the bag of chips. The bald man held the bag out for me and I stared at him for a moment.

"Are you going to take one or not?" he said.

I reached for the bag, but when I did, the bald man snatched it away from me. Olaf's associates laughed and continued eating, making sure to taunt me with the food.

Count Olaf started the car and pulled away from the only chance I had of escaping. But I reminded myself that I couldn't escape until I knew where the Baudelaires were. I was silent throughout the ride as the villains continued to talk about Olaf's plan to take over the hospital to get the file and the Baudelaires.

Eventually, we arrived at the hospital and Olaf parked the car in an illegal parking spot where we wouldn't be seen. Doors opened as Esmé and Count Olaf got out. My door opened and I was practically trampled as his associates climbed out, kicking me wherever they could reach. Finally, I got out too and a pair of sunglasses was shoved in my hands.

"Put those on until we find better disguises," Olaf said.

I sighed and put them on. Esmé was frowning at me and I finally got a full look at her new 'in' outfit. She wore a coat made of fur from various different animals, and carried a handbag in the shape of an eye. She wore a hat on her head with a small veil that was as dark as night. But the most shocking part was the pair of shoes on her feet with stilettos. They were very scary looking and could no doubt be used as a weapon.

"What are you looking at?" she sneered. "If you're thinking about what that stupid, midget said in that store, well he was probably blind or something. We don't look anything alike."

"Esmé," Olaf said, "why don't you take the orphan with you while you find us some proper disguises?"

"Can't you take the orphan?" Esmé complained, "Orphans aren't in any more, except for when you're trying to steal their fortune."

I turned my attention away from their conversation about where I would go and stared at the hospital building. It was a strange building because it was only halfway finished. The left side was a resplendent white structure, with a row of tall pillars and little carved portraits of famous doctors. The front had a neatly mowed lawn with patches of brightly colored wildflowers. But the other half only had wooden planks nailed together for floors and rectangles. There weren't any walls or windows though. In front there was an empty field of dirt. It was faint and I wasn't completely sure if I was seeing right, but I thought I saw a glow coming from one of the floors of the unfinished half of the building. But it was too dark for me to see much, especially when I was wearing sunglasses.

"Pay attention, orphan!" Olaf growled, forcing my attention away from the unfinished half of the hospital. "You're going with Esmé to find us some disguises. And remember, for now on my name is Mattathias. Do not call me any other name or you will be _very_ sorry!" Then, he turned to Esmé. "I'll meet you at the office." They exchanged evil looking grins and to my horror Esmé kissed Olaf on the lips.

"Blah," I said, turning away quickly. I felt nauseous again.

The next thing I knew, Esmé was dragging me along with her. We entered the front doors of the hospital that led us into the lobby. Esmé let go of my arm, but continued to push me in the direction of a hospital map.

"We're probably going to have to steal them from some doctors," Esmé said, keeping her voice low so only I could here. "Our best bet is the Sick Kids Ward. You could probably pass as a patient and steal them."

"I'm not stealing anything," I said, firmly.

"You'd better do as I say or Mathattias will deal with you," Esmé growled.

"You're the criminal, not me," I said, "I'm just a hostage."

"We'll discuss that later," Esmé said. "We're going to the fourth floor. Let's go so we can be quick."

Esmé began shoving me towards a flight of stairs and we climbed all the way to the fourth floor. Esmé tottered as she walked because of the stilettos, but oddly by the time we reach the fourth floor, I was more exhausted than she was. Then, I remembered that she used to live on the sixty-sixth floor of 667 Dark Avenue with no operating elevators. She was probably used to it by now.

"Hurry up," Esmé hissed before swinging the door open that lead from the stairwell to the hallways.

Doctors, nurses, visitors, and patients moved about the halls and Esmé steered us over to the right side of the hall. Occasionally, people would glance at me pitifully and I guessed they really did think I was a patient. As insulting as it was, I couldn't blame them. After seeing my reflection for the first time in a month, _I _almost believed that I was a patient.

We neared the Sick Kids Ward and stopped so Esmé could give me more orders. But my attention drifted to the passerbys and then across the hall. A nurse was emerging from a supply closet carrying a few cans of alphabet soup. The door closed behind the nurse and she paused to give me a sweet smile before she walked off.

Esmé grabbed my arm then, yanking me so my attention was on her. "Listen," she snapped.

I opened my mouth to mention the supply closet, but she continued describing our plan.

"Couldn't we just take some of those white medical coats from that supply closet?" I asked, pointing in the direction of the closet.

"What are you talking about?" Esmé said, striding across the hall to open the door. She looked inside and then, back at me. She scowled again. "Wait outside and make sure no one comes inside, orphan." I nodded and the door closed.

I slumped against the door and watched the passerby's, hoping that the Baudelaires were amongst them. Well, I guess I didn't since they were wanted criminals, but if that wasn't the case, I wished they were right around the corner, looking for me.

My eyes wandered to a hospital room across the hall. There were several rooms, except the one I was looking at, was the only one with the door closed and the shades down. I got up from my position on the ground and walked towards it, slowly. My hand reached to twist the knob, but it wouldn't budge. But why? Maybe I was just being too curious. Whoever was in there probably didn't want to be disturbed because they were sleeping. But something told me otherwise.

I removed my sunglasses and glanced down the hall to make sure no one would see me. The people seemed too immersed in their own activities to pay much attention to me, so I leaned down to try peeking through the keyhole. My eyes took a few seconds to adjust and when they did, I gasped.

Another eye was staring straight back at me.

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><p><strong>What do you think so far?<strong>

**Tell me in your Review!**

**And to answer _SideshowJazz1_'s question, i did get Lemony Snicket's alias from THH.**


	25. The Library of Records

**Here's a new chapter finally! **

**Also i have some exciting news...I'm going to be performing in the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade with my camp, Stagedoor Manor! We're performing the opening! If you want to find me, look for someone with long, blond hair :)**

**So that means i might not have a lot of time to update in the next three days or so, but chapter three is nearly done so it'll be up as soon as possible :)**

**Anyways...Enjoy and R&R please!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: The Library of Records<strong>

Esmé led the way to the office, which was all the way on the top floor. I wondered why we didn't take an elevator instead of the stairs, it would be a lot less tiresome, especially when I was carrying all of the white medical coats in my arms. As we climbed, my mind kept wandering back to that eye I had seen through the keyhole of that locked hospital room. I only got a small glance at it, but I had seen that the eye had been a deep shade of blue, like a sapphire. Who could have been behind that door? Why was that person looking back at me?

I sighed. Maybe I was looking too much into it. It probably was just an ordinary person, who just wanted a bit of privacy. Maybe whoever it was, wasn't looking at me, but at someone else. There had been tons of people in that hallway. Maybe the problem is that I'm starting to become too nosy.

I brushed those thoughts aside and focused my energy on climbing up all of these stairs. By the time we reached the top, I was out of breath and trying to keep up. I followed Esmé down another hallway to a door with a sign that said, 'Do Not Disturb'. Esmé knocked on the door, which opened immediately.

Olaf peered out from behind the door and Esmé slipped inside, remembering to pull me in with her.

The office that Count Olaf had gained access to was dimly lit with a mahogany desk in the center. At the desk was one of those office chairs with wheels on the bottom and an intercom was sitting on top of the desk. It had a couple of red buttons on top. On the right side was a door with a sign that said 'Bathroom' on it. I felt bad for the person who used to have this office. Knowing Count Olaf, whoever's office this was, was probably severely injured or dead.

"You've got the disguises," Olaf praised, snatching one of the white medical coats from my arms and put his arms through the sleeves. "I'll get them to my associates. Hooky is on his way here; they were taking care of some things for me. Actually, there's something I need you to do for me too."

"Yes?" Esmé said.

Count Olaf glanced at me and frowned. "Not in front of the orphan, of course. Blondie, go clean that bathroom," Olaf ordered, "I want it spotless and put this on too." He took the disguises and replaced them with a white hospital gown. "It's _your_ disguise. I figured you were too short to be a doctor and it would be stupid of me to make you a medical professional of any kind. So I decided you're going to be a patient." Olaf looked me up and down before he added, "you definitely won't need much to pull it off. Now go."

I did as I was told and went inside the bathroom to slip the hospital gown on. I left my clothes on underneath just in case. I looked around the bathroom and was happy to discover the bathroom didn't look very dirty at all. Count Olaf must have just gained control of this office and perhaps the last person who was the head of Heimlich Hospital liked things to be clean.

Also, whoever it was, must have not cared for soundproof walls, because if I listened carefully, I could make out the villains' conversation.

I stepped closer to the door so I could hear them better.

"What is it that you need me to do for you, darling?" Esmé was asking.

"I need you to take these keys and find the Baudelaire file tomorrow night after I've announced that Babs is dead—I mean, resigned," he said, "I want to destroy it. You can find it in the Library of Records."

"Consider it done," I heard Esmé say and I heard a few wet noises that made me flinch and cover my ears.

They must have stopped kissing because when I uncovered my ears, Esmé was talking again.

"Shouldn't we find the blond brat's file too?" Esmé said, "The authorities could get their hands on it if we don't."

"Good thinking," Olaf said, "and tomorrow the article about her death will be out for everyone to see. We don't want the authorities to find anything"

Their voices were lowered now so I couldn't hear much else of what they said, but it didn't matter. All I could think about was that there might be a file with information about me…about my parents. Would it be able to explain why they abandoned me and then died in a car crash…or a fire as Jacques mentioned? It didn't matter at the moment; I just had to get my hands on that file. I had to know at last the answers to the questions that I've been asking since I was old enough to understand that my parents were never coming back.

"So you got rid of the old bat?" Esmé said, her voice drifting back to my ears.

Olaf's eyes gleamed as if he were telling a horrible joke. "I'm afraid Babs has resigned recently to become a stuntwoman. She started immediately by throwing herself off of buildings."

They shared villainous grins. I frowned, feeling even worse; that poor woman. I hated how Count Olaf got away with killing so many people. It didn't seem fair. I reminded myself that if I got my hands on that file, maybe I could defeat Count Olaf with evidence perhaps. Maybe while I was in the Library of Records I could take the Baudelaire file as well. I'm sure if it was important to Count Olaf, than it'll probably be important to me.

"I want to show you something too," Olaf said, "let me go check on the orphan to make sure she's doing her chores."

My eyes widened and I quickly grabbed some paper towel, wet it, and began to wipe the counter with it just in time for Count Olaf to walk in with Esmé tottering behind him.

"What are you doing, orphan?" Count Olaf demanded.

"I'm cleaning the bathroom, of course," I said.

"Well, Esmé and I have to take care of something," Olaf said, "While we're gone, you should be cleaning this bathroom. I want it to be spotless when I get back. Don't even think about trying to escape either. My associates are wandering around this hospital as we speak and they'll be able to catch you if you try going anywhere. In fact, Hooky's on his way up here at the moment. Is that clear?"

I nodded. "I don't have anywhere to go," I reminded him.

"Good," Olaf said, "let's go Esmé." He turned to me again. "We'll be back _very_ soon."

They left, finally, and I sighed in relief when I heard them exit the office. Perfect.

Without wasting another moment, I tossed out the wet paper towel and left the bathroom. All I needed now was a key and I would be ready to go. I moved to the desk, which was cluttered with tons of papers. I searched the drawers and found nothing. I sighed and looked around the room again. as I did, something amongst the cluttered papers caught my eye.

It looked like a list of some sort and as I looked more closely, I could see it was a list of patients. A thought stuck my mind then, and I began looking through the lists until I found all of the lists for the fourth floor. I had a feeling that I should try to find the patient with the locked door. I wasn't even sure what ward the patient was in, but I knew it was near the Sick Kids Ward. Quickly, I collected all the wards that said they were on the fourth floor. I read the first list over for the Broken Nose Ward:

Alexander Grayson

Mona Watts

Eliza Burke

Jeffery Fischer

Sara Feldman

William Buckley

There were more names, but none of them held any interest to me. I picked up the next list for the Burns and Scars Ward.

Serena Ashman

Eleanor Bennet

Samuel Sneed

Emma Lisa Surry

Albert Riggs

Ruth Caldwell

I moved the list aside when it too, didn't look helpful. The other two wards for the fourth floor didn't help either. I nearly tossed the lists aside completely, but I caught a glimpse of a patient in the Surgical Ward. My breath caught and my eyes widened. It was Monty Kensicle. Though, I knew by now that Monty Kensicle was nothing but an alias for Lemony Snicket. I stared at his false name and hoped that maybe Lemony Snicket truly is in this hospital. I needed to find him after I got the files so he could help me stop Count Olaf's latest scheme, whatever it was.

I channeled my thoughts to finding the keys now. I searched everywhere and finally saw them sitting on top of a shelf along the back wall. But it was too high for me to reach. Olaf must have suspected I would try to steal the keys and stuck them up there, knowing I was too short to reach them.

I grabbed the desk chair and wheeled it over to the shelf. Climbing onto the chair, I reached as high as I could and finally, I managed to grab hold of them. I must have reached too far because as soon as I grabbed hold of the keys, the chair was no longer beneath me and I toppled to the floor. I got up and frowned when my ankle hurt. I shook it off and hurried from the room. After climbing down a few flights of stairs as quick as I could, while watching carefully for the hook-handed man, I stopped to catch my breath. That was when I realized that I had no idea where the Library of Records was. I needed to find directions immediately because I know that it won't be long before Olaf discovers that I'm gone. When he does, his associates will probably be on the look out for me and I couldn't get caught. Not when I was so close to finding out the truth about my parents.

When I reached the door leading to the third floor, I entered looked around hoping for something that might help. Perhaps I could ask someone for directions. But they might get suspicious if I asked for directions to the Library of Records. It didn't seem like the kind of place hospital patients would typically go. I glanced around me again and found a map hanging on the wall. I stared at it, frowning at the numerous symbols that only seemed to confuse me even more. I looked for the Library of Records, but there was so much information on the map that it was as if everything was written in another language. Finally, I matched the Library of Records to the right symbol on the map and I hurried for the stairs again. I was so close. Only a few more floors.

As I reached the second floor, the door was opening and an odd shaped hand poked out, covered with a white glove. One finger was curved and long while the others hung limp.

I froze and it wasn't until his head poked out too, that I recovered.

"What are you doing, orphan?" the hook-handed man growled, "You're supposed to be with Mattathias or have you escaped? Well, it looks like your plan will be put to a stop once I have my hooks on you."

He reached out to grab me, but my legs finally obeyed my screaming mind and I raced past him, ducking as I did. I hurried down the stairs and I could hear his thundering footsteps as he bounded after me. He was closing in now and I knew I would be caught if I didn't speed up.

I hopped onto the banister and slid down until I reached the first floor. I jumped off and swung open the door. The hook-handed man was reaching the end of the stairwell too and stretched out his hooks to try and snatch me. I slammed the door shut just as his hooks neared the threshold. I giggled when I heard the sound of him smashing into the door, but then I was hurrying for the basement again.

When I climbed to the basement, I immediately entered what looked like the antechamber of the Library of Records.

It was pitch black and I hoped that no one was hiding in the shadows somewhere. The hook-handed man was probably still after me or maybe he went to go tell Olaf. It didn't matter; he was probably back by now and discovered my absence himself. Soon Olaf and his horrible associates would be looking for me and when they did, I would be in a whole lot of trouble. So I had to act fast. I needed to know why my parents abandoned me.

I hurried across the antechamber and reached the door to the Library of Records. After checking to make sure no one was coming, I examined the keys and tried to determine which one would fit into this door. I tried several before I found the right one. At last, I was able to push the door open and tiptoe inside.

I locked the door behind me, just in case. I scanned the dark room, tall cabinets reached up so high that I couldn't reach them. I hoped none of the information I was looking for was in the tall ones. I began my search. '_Rumary…Rumary…'_ I thought '_That would be in the R section_.'

I found the cabinet where I would find Rumary and tried every single key until I discovered that none of them worked for the file cabinets. Frustrated, I tried to yank the cabinet open, but it wouldn't budge, not without a key.

I slumped to the ground and felt tears come to my eyes. I came all this way for nothing—only to discover that I didn't have the right set of keys. I should have known that I'd never be able to find those answers. They died with my parents and soon Count Olaf would get his hands on it to destroy it before I could have any chance of discovering the truth. I knew my parent's names at least; Abigail and Henry Rumary. I knew what they looked like from the photo I had found in Count Olaf's tower room. And I knew who my godfather was. Maybe I would have to settle for that.

Then, I remembered that Jacques might not even be my godfather anymore. Duncan had said that Jacques's goddaughter was someone else. I remembered the last word he had called to me. "…Murrie." Just like Jacques's last words were something 'Murrie'. I forgot what the first name was, but it didn't matter. Suddenly, I had a strong urge to find out who 'Murrie' was, but I couldn't find that out either. I sighed again in frustration.

Before I could move off of the floor, I heard a thud that caught my attention. I got up off of the floor and followed the noise to the M section. I looked down the row of file cabinets under M and found one of the file cabinets was open. Perhaps that's what had made that noise. Was someone here? Was someone looking for a file in the M section? Was it the hook-handed man or Count Olaf? Whoever it was, maybe I didn't care if they saw me. I couldn't care less if my punishment included becoming completely bald.

I waited expecting for the hook-handed man or Count Olaf to appear out of nowhere and snatch me, but no one came. Finally, I decided that maybe Count Olaf or the hook-handed man hadn't found me yet. I moved towards the open file cabinet to look inside. What could be in there that's so important?

I searched through the files, hoping to find Murrie, but the name was nowhere in sight. I sighed in aggravation. Was there any helpful information in this Library of Records?

It didn't make any sense. I looked the files over again and my eyes lingered on the name that should come before Murrie. As I studied the name my eyes widened. For on the file, in crisp letters it read, '_Murray_'.

I pulled the file out of the cabinet and sat on the floor so I could look through it. Carefully, I opened the large folder.

The first thing I saw was a clipping of a newspaper article dated in 2001. The headline read: _The Murray Family Mystery Unfurls_

There was a black and white photo of a family beside the article. There was a well-built man with dark hair who was wearing a nice smile. Beside him was a young woman who had long, blond hair, a sweet smile, and her eyes sparkled with happiness. I wanted to smile back at the woman because she just seemed so wonderful. She was holding a little baby in her arms. She seemed only a few months old and the woman was helping her to wave one of her little hands at the camera.

It was odd. The couple looked so familiar, but I was having trouble remembering why. It was probably because I was tired and sick. In fact, I could feel my nausea coming back. I tried not to focus on it, though.

My eyes fell to the description below. It read:

"_A few months ago, an American family disappeared in Ontario, Canada while visiting their cottage near Clearwater Lake on Pine Hill Rd just south of Sudbury. Henry Dean Murray's remains were found in a ravine three miles from their cottage. His body was too badly mangled for investigators to make any assumptions, but markings on his neck lead them to infer that he was strangled and badly beaten. As for Abigail Elizabeth Murray, and their daughter, Jamie Faith Murray, investigators presume that Abigail and Jamie Murray perished in a fire, since their cottage was found burnt to the ground. As of now, there is not enough evidence to make any assumptions…"_

I stopped reading the article as my head began to spin. I was so confused right now and feeling nauseous again, only made it worse. I continued to stare blankly at the world around me and all I could think about was the article. Impossible, impossible, impossible…I kept telling myself. It just didn't make any sense. Somehow, in my daze, I made it to my feet, but even then, I was frozen like a statue. It was as if time had stopped.

Memories flashed before my eyes and although it was fuzzy, a memory replayed in my mind.

I had been sitting at the front door playing with a stuffed pink bunny. I remember I was waiting for something—for someone, but it was too hard for me to remember exactly who.

"Jamie! Jamie!" My mother's voice shouting in my memory nearly made me believe she was standing right next to me. My mother, the woman from the photo, scooped me up and as I looked behind us, everything was bright orange as if we were inside a lit jack o' lantern.

The memory was gone as soon as it had come. I gasped sinking to the floor. Suddenly, I couldn't feel my legs. Could it really be that I'm not who I think I am? That I'm someone named Jamie Murray, not Jane Rumary? 'Impossible,' Duncan Quagmire's words replayed in my memory and echoed my thoughts. Then, the world—the world I once thought was a world where Jane Rumary existed was crumbling and then everything went black.

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	26. The Murray File

**New chapter! I'm surprised i got it up this soon since i've been so busy. I hope you watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade! I performed in it with my camp like i said before. We did the opening number, Join Our Parade! I was on the right side wearing a blue sweater :) **

**Anyways, i hope all you Americans (and maybe Canadians) had a great Thanksgiving!**

**R&R and Enjoy as always!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: The Murray File<strong>

"_Orphan_, wake up!"

The surprise of someone shaking me, made me regain my consciousness. My eyes fluttered open and I looked around in confusion.

I sat up slowly and rubbed my eyes before surveying the room. File cabinets gave evidence that I was still in the Library of Records, which could only mean that the previous events hadn't just been a horrific nightmare.

My gaze caught with the tall villain's shiny eyes. Count Olaf was dressed in his disguise made up of a white medical coat and a hospital mask to conceal most of his face. But his eyes were visible, giving me the impression that he was becoming increasingly angry.

"What are you doing here?" I said, my voice hoarse as I got to my feet.

"I was just about to ask you that same question," Olaf growled. "I came back from running errands with Esmé to find _you_ missing from the bathroom. Then, Hooky told us all about you fleeing for the lobby. So I sent Hooky looking for you outside while I looked for you in here." He paused and grabbed my arm, yanking me forward so I could smell his nasty tuna fish breath. "I thought I made it clear to you what would happen if you tried to escape."

"I was going to come back," I said.

"And what's this?" Olaf asked, raising his eyebrows as he held up the file.

"N-nothing," I stuttered.

"It's not the _Baudelaire_ file, is it?" Olaf said greedily, his eyes shining.

"No, it's not the Baudelaire file," I said, quickly, "Actually, it's not even very important. Not to you, at least." I reached for the file, but Olaf raised his arm so it was too high for me to reach it.

"Well, if it's not important and you have nothing to hide then, I should feel free to take a look at it!" He opened the folder and his eyes rested instantly on the article.

I waited anxiously for him to finish. After a moment, Count Olaf looked up at me.

"Why do you have this?" he was livid now and I shrunk back against the file cabinets.

"I came here looking for information about my parents," I said, nervously, "because I don't know anything about them and I was dying to know why they abandoned me. I searched under Rumary, but the keys don't work for the file cabinets. Just the library itself."

"Then, how did you wind up with this?" Olaf hissed, "With the _Murray_ file? Who told you about this file?"

"Well," I said, "Jacques Snicket did tell me about someone named Murrie and Duncan did too before they floated away. I was curious so I tried to find it, but I found the _Murray_ file instead."

"Well, I don't see why it's important to anyone," Olaf said then he looked up at me expectantly.

"They're my parents," I whispered, "I don't have too many memories of them, but I remember what they looked like and its them. But why are they under a different name? Why do they have a daughter named Jamie Murray? Why isn't she Jane Rumary? Am I Jamie Murray or do I have a sister or something that I don't know about?"

"Quiet," Olaf growled, his eyes shifting from the article to me. His eyes seemed to widen more and more each time.

"It doesn't make any sense," I heard him mutter, which took me by surprise. I've never once heard Count Olaf say that he didn't understand something.

Count Olaf reached out to grab my face in his bony hands. He looked at me with that same look I'd seen on his face when I first met him at Uncle Monty's house. The same look as if I were familiar…as if he recognized me from somewhere. At first I had thought he realized that I had been the orphan who just disappeared like magic, but was I wrong?

"What do you remember?" he said, "What do you remember about your parents?"

"They looked exactly like the people in that photo," I said, "but after I finished reading the article…suddenly the name Jamie Murray seemed so familiar. Then, I remembered…the fire…there were flames everywhere…and then, the woman in that photo…my mother…was screaming my name. Not Jane…she was calling me _Jamie_. But how? It doesn't make any sense to _me_."

"I knew it," Olaf suddenly cried, letting go of my face. His laughter echoed off the walls of the Library of Records. "I _knew_ it."

"What?" I said.

His laughter increased. After a moment he stopped and looked at me with the shiniest eyes I've ever seen. "You really _are_ stupid," he muttered, "But a genius like me could see right away that you _are_ Jamie Murray."

"But Jacques Snicket said he was my godfather," I said, "and I never told him my name was Jamie Murray."

"He _is_ your godfather," Olaf said, "or I should say _was_. What else did he tell you?"

"He said my parents died in a fire," I said, "at least from what he investigated. But he never mentioned anything about how my father was _murdered_."

Olaf stared at me for a moment and his eyes darkened for a split second.

"He must have seen the resemblance," Count Olaf said, "I did too. In fact, I recognized you from the first day I saw you. You look exactly like Abigail, but unfortunately, you inherited some of your _father's_ qualities too. Jacques knew it, and so do I. You're Jamie Murray."

"But that still doesn't answer my questions," I said, "I still don't know why they just left me at some boarding school."

"That's true," Olaf said, "they did leave you…under a different name too. I can see now that your fake name is an anagram of Jamie Murray, your real name, well at least your last name is."

"What's an anagram?" I asked.

"Of course, you aren't smart enough to know that an anagram is when you rearrange the letters in a word or name to spell something different," Olaf said, "They're usually used to conceal locations, or in your case, your name. If you switch the first 'r' with the 'm' and then switch the 'a' and the second 'r' around you'll see that it spells out Murray." Olaf smirked. "I was the one who taught your mother how to use it."

"You knew my mother?" I asked.

His eyes flashed with something that I didn't understand, but within the blink of an eye it was gone. "Of course I did," Olaf said, "Why do you think I recognized you?"

"I-I thought you recognized me as the girl who just disappeared out of the blue," I said, shrugging, "I still don't know how that happened."

"Do you even realize what this means?" Olaf said.

"That my entire life has been one humungous lie," I said heatedly. I crossed my arms.

"That's not what I meant," Olaf said, "You're Jamie Murray. You're supposed to be dead. Only_ I_ knew you were still alive. I've been trying to find you for years."

"What's so special about me?" I asked. "I'm still an orphan and I still have a fortune. It doesn't seem so different for you."

"Maybe," Olaf said, "but I won't just be getting any fortune, you'll be giving me the Murray fortune! The Rumary fortune probably never existed. But the Murray fortune is far more valuable than the Baudelaire fortune and the Quagmire sapphires. I'll be the richest man in the world!"

"How did you know my mother?" I asked.

Olaf's eyes darkened. "We went to school together and she was one of my _many_ girlfriends." At this he gave me a cocky smirk.

"What?" I cried, "You're lying."

"I'm not lying, at all," Olaf said, "And if you must know the truth, your mother did some very bad things. So did your father. They were criminals."

"I don't believe that either," I said, glaring up at Olaf, "They couldn't have been bad. I don't remember them being mean."

"Of course they were," Olaf said, "why else do you think they abandoned you?"

I didn't answer and my eyes fell to the floor. Of course Count Olaf was right. I've known it all along. My parents didn't love me; they were probably villains like Count Olaf. That's why they left me. That's why they hid my identity from me. Why did I have to be this Jamie Murray? I didn't want to be her. I wanted to be Jane. Just Jane and nothing more.

"Let's get out of here," Olaf said, "unless we snatch the Baudelaire file right now. Give me the keys."

"I told you," I said, giving him the keys anyways, "the keys only work for the library itself, not any of the file cabinets."

"Then how on earth did you get this?" Olaf growled.

"I-I was looking in the 'R' section for Rumary and I couldn't get to it," I said, quickly, "Then, I heard a loud noise and I followed it over to this section to find this file cabinet wide open. I figured someone was here, like you or one of your associates. Did you not open the cabinet?"

"I didn't open any cabinet," Olaf growled, "I came here to find you lying on the ground with this file in your hands. And my associates aren't down here either."

"Well if you didn't open it," I said, quietly so only Count Olaf could hear, "then who did?"

It was silent as neither of us spoke. I looked around the dark room, which seemed to only be growing darker. I shuddered involuntarily, though it wasn't cold.

"Let's leave then," Count Olaf said, abruptly, "I'll have Esmé retrieve it later."

Olaf pushed me towards the exit and we climbed back up from the Library of Records to the main lobby of the hospital. As we walked up the stairs to the office, I felt my despair deepening. It was hard before when I didn't know why my parents abandoned me or anything else about them. But now that I knew the truth—that my parents had been villains—it felt so much worse. It only confirmed what I had known deep down this whole time. That they never loved me, and if they did, why would they keep so many things from me? Why would they hide my identity from the world and myself?

"Um…" I started as we neared the office, "since you seem to know so much about my parents…could you tell me more about them? I don't care if they were villains, I just want to know that they at least existed in some way or another."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Olaf said, patting the spot under his medical coat where he had hid the file, "if I told you what I knew, you wouldn't sleep for days. Just wait until I tell Esmé. It's the best news that I've heard all week besides the Baudelaires being nearby."

We reached the office then, and Count Olaf opened the door. I followed him inside and then, went to sit in a chair near the corner of the office when my legs began to feel wobbly. I pulled my knees up to my chest tightly. For some reason it was aching and all I wanted to do was curl up in a closet where no one could find me to cry. I just wanted to be able to escape the world for a few hours.

Or maybe what I needed, was the Baudelaires. I wished I were with them right now so they could comfort me, instead of being surrounded by villains who only seemed to make everything worse.

"Where was she?" Esmé asked, as she glared at me.

"I found the brat in the Library of Records," Olaf said, "but that's not important at the moment. I have some very good news."

"What is it?" Esmé Squalor asked and her eyes gleamed with excitement. "Did you get the Baudelaire file?"

"Even better," Count Olaf said, which made Esmé's eyes widen. I figured she didn't expect anything could be better than that. "I know you don't like to talk about her very much, but it's about Abigail."

"Did you find out how she…" Esmé trailed off and for the first time ever, I saw a flicker of concern in her eyes.

"No," Count Olaf answered, shaking his head, "I found out where her daughter has been hiding all these years."

Esmé frowned. "That's impossible," she said, "Abigail's daughter is dead. As dead as her parents."

"It _is_ possible," Olaf said, "you and I both knew Abigail very well. She would do everything she could to protect that baby."

To _protect_ me? She was protecting me. But Olaf just said my parents were bad people. Then, I realized how it didn't matter if my mother was trying to protect me. She still left and nothing could ever make up for the years I lost with my parents.

"Where then?" Esmé demanded.

Count Olaf rested his eyes on me as an answer, and I clutched my knees tighter to my chest, trying to hold myself together so that I wouldn't burst into tears right in front of them.

Esmé followed his gaze until her eyes were on me too. She stared at me for only a minute before her breath caught. She was giving me that same look Olaf did when he found out.

"Impossible," she whispered again, shaking her head. "She can't be. You're wrong."

Olaf looked frustrated. "Can't you see the resemblance?" he said, striding over to me. "You knew her even better than I do. This girl has the same blonde hair, the same face, and those eyes…no one has eyes like that except Abigail and now her daughter. Though, she does slightly resemble her father too, which _I_ think is unfortunate. But it _is_ her daughter. Even Jacques Snicket recognized the girl as his goddaughter. This girl is Jamie Faith Murray, not Jane Rumary. The last name of her false name is an anagram for Murray. The files right here, you can see for yourself the resemblance."

Olaf gave Esmé the file. She opened it to the article, but after one glance at it, she closed it again.

Esmé looked like she was struggling to form words. I realized for the first time ever, Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor was speechless.

"Why is my mother so important to _you_?" I asked her, "Why am I so important to both of you? Just because my name is Jamie Murray, it doesn't change anything. I'm still an orphan." I could feel a lump in the back of my throat as my anger brought tears to my eyes.

"Abigail was my sister," Esmé said, changing back to her cool, stony demeanor.

That made my eyes widened even more.

"Y-you're my…?"

"Your aunt, yes," Esmé said, bitterly.

I stared up at Esmé in disbelief. I was related to Esmé? Maybe my parents really were bad people. My mother was probably as cruel as Esmé.

"But do you realize what this means?" Olaf said, interrupting my moment of shock, "First of all, you're directly related to the orphan, which will make it even easier to steal her fortune and we won't have just any fortune. We'll have the Murray fortune."

"Also, there's a twenty-thousand dollar award for the person who finds you," Esmé added, her eyes glowing too, "though that might require turning the girl in to the authorities."

"They can't know who she is," Olaf said, "neither can those volunteers or they'll try to snatch her for themselves."

They continued to talk about my mother, my fortune, and me. I felt like I was on display so I turned my attention from their conversation. I put my head in my hands, feeling the tears coming. It was all so much to absorb all at once. Esmé Squalor was my aunt? I was really Jamie Murray? My head started spinning again and my nausea returned.

I got out of my seat and started for the door.

"Where are you going?" Olaf growled, "I'm not letting you out of my sight, especially now that I know who you really are."

"I-I need to get out of here," I blurted, "And I'm starving. I'll be in the nearest supply closet."

I left the office, and found a supply closet right across the hall. I opened the door and stepped inside, not really knowing why I was in here. I just had to get away.

Feeling nauseous again, I moved over to the sink to be sick. It was as if everything in me had drained and I was just a bare skeleton. I felt like I was falling down the elevator shaft again and again, except this time there wasn't a net below to catch me. I gripped the sides of the sink. All of the pain and anger I've been suppressing my entire life came flooding out of me all at once.

It didn't matter what I discovered today. I found out that it was true. My parents abandoned me. They didn't love me. So what if my parents were trying to protect me? Why didn't they just put me up for adoption or at least leave a note explaining everything? At least then, I might've been able to have some kind of family to look after me. Instead, they left me on the doorstep of an awful boarding school and gave me a false identity so I would never know who I truly am—so I would never find out that my parents didn't love me. I've been living a lie my whole life.

I couldn't see why Olaf was so shocked, despite my fortune being more valuable. Like I said before, it didn't change anything. Nothing could ever change what I went through. My parents still left me, they still lied to me, they still took away my childhood from me, they were still dead, I was still an orphan, and they were never coming back. It was their fault that I was in Count Olaf's clutches. It was their fault for not protecting me from these dangers. It was their fault that Carmelita Spatz made fun of me all those years and tried to kill me. It was their_ entire_ fault! All of this tore me to pieces and my tears turned into broken sobs.

I was so angry that I wanted to hit something. I reached down and picked up a can of soup.

"It's not fair!" I cried, angrily, throwing it at the wall where it burst open, spraying soup everywhere. But I didn't care.

"It's not fair!" I shouted as if my parents were in the room—as if they could hear me. I threw another can at the wall and felt myself shaking with anger. Then, I gave up, sinking to the floor so I could curl up into a tiny ball.

All I'd ever wanted more than anything else, was two parents. I wanted a dad to give me piggyback rides and tell me that he would fight off any monsters that lurked under my bed. I wanted a mother to read me bedtime stories, and cheer me up when I was hurt. I wanted to learn how to ride a bike, one thing I've never done before, and I wanted to have my parents there on my first day of school. I wanted two parents who I could celebrate my birthday with. That's all I've ever wanted. Just a simple, happy childhood like the Baudelaires had. What made me so different from them? Why couldn't I have grown up around people who loved me? Why did they have to leave me alone in such a horrible, scary world? How could they do that to me? They should've just let me die in that fire. I would give anything to have a family, I'd trade everything I had for the childhood I'd always wanted and could never have. Carmelita Spats was right all along. I really was just an accident and no one in their right mind would _ever_ love me.

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	27. Not Alone

**New chapter! Enjoy and review!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Not Alone<strong>

I heard the door opening then, and I lay back, closing my eyes to pretend I was sleeping. I knew it was Count Olaf and Esmé before they spoke.

"Is she asleep?" Esmé asked, and I felt her poke me with her shoe. I didn't move an inch.

"It looks like it," Count Olaf muttered, "let's leave her in here until she wakes up."

"But what if she tries to escape again," Esmé said.

"She won't," Olaf said, confidently, "and if she does, Dr. Tocuna and Nurse Flo will be there to stop her. I've searched too long to have this orphan escape again."

They left and I was alone once more.

But this time I wasn't about to curl up into a ball and cry again. I wanted to escape again. I found myself sitting up and looking around the supply closet as I decided what I should do. Of course, I was in Count Olaf's clutches and his associates were on the look out, but all of this news made me miss the Baudelaires. I wanted to find them and make sure they were okay. All I knew was that they were working at the Library of Records. But where did they go during the evenings? I would have to think about that while I gathered supplies. After all this time, I knew well that wherever they were, it was probably very unpleasant and cold…like that unfinished half of the hospital.

So that's where I would go.

I grabbed an armful of soup cans and a few medical coats, putting a medical coat on to make them easier to carry. I even took a box of rubber bands and a scalpel just in case. I felt a little guilty for stealing hospital supplies, but they probably had tons of supplies and wasn't it the job of a hospital to help those who needed it. And the Baudelaires were definitely in need of care.

I realized as I gathered the supplies that I wasn't going to be able to carry it all without help. But I didn't have any one else. I looked at the supplies and tried to imagine that the Baudelaires were with me right now. What would they do to carry all of this?

Suddenly, the rubber bands seemed to be very important. I used them to make a bunch of white medical coats into a sack to carry the cans of soup inside.

When it was all ready, I now faced the challenge of getting past the white faced women. I opened the door of the supply closet and peeked outside.

No one was in sight so I figured it was safe to step out. I moved the sack to my shoulder as I walked down the deserted hall to the stairs. I wasn't completely sure how to get to the unfinished half, but I figured I could enter it through the lobby.

I didn't want to waste time and get caught, the white-faced women could have seen me from wherever they were and be right behind me for all I knew. I couldn't get caught so I decided the fastest way was to slide down the banister again.

I climbed on, making sure the sack made from medical coats was secure so nothing would fall out. I began to slide down, quite quickly and at first it was a little scary, but after reaching one floor, it was actually kind of fun. I laughed as I plummeted down to the next floor. But as I slid down to the _next_ floor, what I saw waiting at the bottom brought my fears back to me.

The two white-faced women were at the bottom of the coming floor, about to climb up the stairs that I was sliding down. I was frightened by being seen, but it was too late for me to stop, I was going too fast. Meanwhile, the white-faced women stood there in shock and didn't move in time, before I collided with them. they fell back as I fell off the banister and clung on to one of them. It was like riding a toboggan except the toboggan was a human. The white-faced woman that I wasn't clinging to landed on the next floor and remained limp, but the one I was gripping onto for dear life was tumbled down for about four more floors. When we reached the bottom, the white faced woman lay still on the floor. I sighed in relief that we stopped falling, but I was a little concerned when I saw that the white-faced woman wasn't moving.

I couldn't waste any more time worrying about it. I'm sure they were fine at least I hoped so. It wouldn't be good if I were the cause of their death.

I got up off of the still body of the white-faced woman and gathered my things together before I climbed down a few more flights of stairs, avoiding the banister incase it happened again. When I reached the lobby, I found the unfinished half quite easily.

I went through the opening of the unfinished half of the hospital, still carrying the supplies in the sack. It was very dark out here and as soon as I'd stepped out of the finished part of the hospital, a chilly breeze lifted up the hair that I had left and goose bumps rose on my arms. I carried on, hugging the medical coat closer to me, stepping over wooden planks and ducking under low archways. I wished I had a flashlight with me so I could see better, at the moment, I moved at a slow pace to avoid tripping or knocking into anything. This construction sight was like a death trap and I feared that some of the nails might be scattered on the floor, waiting for my foot to come down on one. I was grateful that I at least had sneakers on.

Like a beacon, a beam of light shined through the darkness and caused me to squint. I had to stop so my eyes could adjust to the sudden brightness, without risking an injury. "Who's there?" someone whispered, sounding anxious and afraid.

I managed to see clearer and moved closer until my gaze found a familiar boy with dark brown hair and round glasses. He was sitting up and staring right at me, holding a flashlight, the source of that beam of light, and looked puzzled. "Who's there?" Klaus said again, reaching over to touch Violet's shoulder to wake her up.

"No, stop, it's just me," I whispered, stepping towards him. He stopped before his arm reached Violet and looked curiously up at me again. "Let them sleep. I wasn't trying to wake you."

"Jane?" Klaus said in disbelief as he got to his feet, he removed his glasses to rub his tired, dark eyes.

I didn't answer, feeling a lump in my throat again at his use of my false name. I came closer so I could now see Violet and Sunny asleep underneath a tarp.

"It's me," I said again, mustering a small smile. Klaus returned it with a look of relief on his face and then practically crushed me into a hug. It was comforting that he seemed happy to see me and that he was holding out better than I expected with the lack of certain necessities. Though, he was oddly skinny and I wished I had brought something with more protein than alphabet soup. But after seeing my own reflection, in comparison, he was doing a whole lot better than I was. And escaping Olaf's clutches yet again, will probably only make my condition worsen.

"How did you find us?" Klaus asked as he pulled back.

"Well, it's a long story, but I just had to find you to make sure you were all in one piece," I explained, "Olaf found out you were here working at the Library of Records so I decided to look for you. At first, I wasn't sure where to look, but I figured you've winded up spending the evening somewhere cold and dirty…no offense. I haven't exactly been in the best circumstances either."

"Well, you guessed right," Klaus said, "and I'm glad you did." We were silent for a moment and we stared at each other as if we hadn't seen each other in years rather than a few days. I knew Klaus was observing the newly added bruises that covered my arms from my recent punishment. I didn't think I would have to hide them because I figured it would be too dark for him to see, but that flashlight just wouldn't let me rest.

"Count Olaf has been treating you poorly," Klaus said, flatly, as more of a statement than a question.

I just shrugged. "I've been through worse," I said, which was true. I had been in a lot worse situations than that, "and clearly, my situation barely compares to yours. You're a wanted criminal for something you didn't even do and you've been wandering around the countryside for days. In my opinion, you should be more concerned for your own wellbeing rather than mine. This," I said, gesturing to my many bruises, "is nothing compared to that."

Klaus was silent for a brief moment and when he was about to speak again, I decided to divert his attention to far more important matters.

"That's not important right now," I interrupted before he began to blurt out his more about my wellbeing, "what's important is what I have in here." I slid the sack off of my shoulders, letting it fall with a thud to the ground. I crouched down so I could pry off the rubber bands and open it up to the cans of alphabet soup.

"What's all this?" Klaus asked.

"Just a few things I thought you might need," I said, "I found them in one of those supply closets. I thought you might be hungry. Have you been eating well?"

"Well, Sunny has been able to made us a fruit salad before we went to sleep and we had fruit this afternoon for lunch," Klaus said, "but I'm afraid it isn't very satisfying. But this…I can't believe you, Jane. You brought all of this for us?"

"Of course I did," I said, "I wasn't about to let you or your siblings die of starvation. You're all very important to me and it shouldn't come as much of a surprise to you. I'm sure you would've done the same for me."

"I missed you, Jane," Klaus blurted, suddenly, and then, blushed, "I know this isn't the first time you've been apart from us, but this time it was worse. I was worried I wouldn't see you again."

"Well, you've basically said exactly what I was about to say to you," I said, and I could feel my eyes filling with tears. I really had missed him. Not just because I had a crush on him, it was about more than that. He was my best friend and I felt closer to him than I'd ever been with anyone.

Klaus lifted his hand to my cheek to brush away a tear that had escaped. "Here," I said after a moment, feeling my cheeks reddening. I bent down to pick up a can of soup and gave it to Klaus, "you should eat some. I couldn't find a microwave to heat it and the only utensil I have is this scalpel, but I hope it's alright."

"It's perfect," Klaus said, and we both sat down on the hard, wooden floor, "this won't be the first time that I eat without silverware." We shared small grins as we recalled the insane punishments at Prufrock Prep. Klaus managed to carve a reasonable sized hole in the top with the scalpel and took a small sip. When he was finished, he then held it out to me.

"Have some," he offered.

"Not right now," I said, quietly as I stared out into the distant countryside, there was a full moon, giving off an eerie glow.

"Have a sip," Klaus insisted, "you look starved and you especially need to stay as healthy as you can be."

"I'm fine," I said, "you shouldn't be telling me to stay healthy, I'm with Olaf. And I'll be alive as long as my fortune is still available. You on the other hand have been hiking from place to place all by yourselves with the authorities on your trail. I was worried sick about you. Olaf assumed you would all die of starvation or be eaten by a wild animal. That was, until we came to the Last Chance General Store to discover you had been there just this morning."

"Well, we made it out alive," Klaus said, obviously trying to remain optimistic so I wouldn't worry as much, but there was no amount of optimism that could convince me that there was nothing to be worried about.

"Barely," I whispered, sadly.

Klaus pushed the soup towards me again. Finally, I sighed and brought the open can of soup to my lips.

We were both silent as I drank deeply. It wasn't very warm, but at the moment, it would have to do.

"A wild animal?" Klaus said, suddenly and a grin appeared on his weary face.

"As ridiculous as it sounds I was still worried," I said, as I passed the soup back to him, "The world is a scary place, especially if you're all alone and being hunted by both a criminal and the authorities. Olaf has still been spreading lies to the Daily Punctilio, in fact, he's having them publish an article about my tragic murder. Soon everyone will think I'm dead too. That's why I came looking for you. I wanted to make sure you all were whole and I brought all of this in case you needed it."

We were silent again and I averted my eyes, but I could still feel Klaus' gaze lingering on me.

"Jane?" he said, suddenly. Hearing him say my fake name again gave me a sinking feeling. I was worried that if I told Klaus who I was, who my parents were, and that I was related to Esmé Squalor, he might not like me anymore.

I looked up at his dark eyes. "Yes, Klaus?"

He looked like he was about to say something, but thought better of it. He changed his mind and then his hand reached out. I was still as he brushed away a noodle that had stuck to my chin. He held it out on his finger for me to see. It was the letter J. I blushed. He put the J shaped noodle on the wooden floor in between us.

I could hear raindrops splattering on the roof-like thing built above us. It wasn't well built because rain water dripped through the cracks. We both stared silently at the J and as we did, I realized that no matter what happened, I had to tell Klaus the truth. I just couldn't keep something like that from him. And who knows, maybe I was wrong. Klaus never abandoned me before and I had to trust him.

"Klaus?"

"What is it?"

"I have to tell you something," I said, biting my lip, "something big but I'm not sure how to explain it."

"I'm sure I'll be able to understand," Klaus said, "however you choose to explain it."

I was about to open my mouth to explain everything, but it was all so complicated. Besides, I had a better idea.

I took the can of soup from Klaus and fished inside it for a few letters. I put them in a pile in front of me and separated them. With the letters I spelled out 'Jane Sophia Rumary' and placed them in the middle of us. For a moment, I was reminded of Spirit and how he'd spelled out my name with alphabet soup not too long ago. Perhaps, I would have to use Spirit's way of communicating to explain.

Klaus read it and smiled at me.

"Is this your way of explaining it?" Klaus asked.

I nodded. "It's the best way."

Next, I looked at my last name. I took the 'm' and moved it in front of the first 'r'. I glanced up to make sure Klaus was paying attention. He looked confused and raised an eyebrow when I met his gaze. I held up my finger and returned to switching the first 'r' with the 'u'. Finally I switched the second 'r' and the 'a'. Now it spelled 'Murray'. I glanced up at Klaus again who was still puzzled but I could see that he was figuring it out in his brain just as he always did. He was so smart and it was a relief that I probably wouldn't have to go into too much detail before he understood. Before Klaus could finish, I moved onto my first name. I took away the 'n' and stuck in a letter 'm' and a letter 'i'. Then, with my middle name, I added and removed letters until it spelled Faith. My full, real name, Jamie Faith Murray was spelled out in the noodles. To finalize my point, I gestured to the name and then at myself.

"That's you?" he spoke finally.

I nodded. "I know it's hard to understand but my name is Jamie Faith Murray."

Klaus stood up, startled. "You mean, you've known this whole time?" he said, in disbelief and then, remembered that Violet and Sunny were still asleep and lowered his voice. "You've been pretending to be someone _else_?"

"No," I cried, getting to my feet, "that's not true. I never lied about that, I swear, I didn't know."

"I don't understand," Klaus said, "how could you not know what your name is?"

I bit my lip, contemplating on how I could explain it. "See, well, from what I've been told, when my parents abandoned me at that Ontario Boarding School For Girls, she rearranged the letters from my real last name, Murray, to spell Rumary like I showed you. She changed my first name to Jane, and my middle name to Faith. Count Olaf said it's some sort of code called an anagram."

"How did you find this out?" Klaus asked, still in disbelief.

"Actually," I said, "I snuck into the Library of Records earlier and discovered it. Olaf caught me but when he saw the file, he was more concerned about that then punishing me. It was a little odd to see Olaf so surprised. He seems to know all kinds of secrets. Obviously, he wasn't included in that one. But it makes sense. Before Jacques died he mentioned something about a girl I thought was named Jamie Murrie and you remember Duncan's reaction when I told him Jacques was my godfather. He said it was impossible because he knew that Jacques was the godfather of someone else. He must have meant Jamie Murray. Me. Which could only mean that my entire life so far has been a lie." Tears started to slide down my cheeks. "My parents didn't even care about me…Count Olaf said they were bad people. It certainly explains why they abandoned me." I sank back down to the ground and allowed myself to cry.

Klaus frowned and sat down beside me. I knew when he put a comforting arm around me, that he understood.

"That can't be true," he said, softly, "how could you believe what Count Olaf told you? He always lies about things."

"Esmé Squalor is my aunt," I said to finalize my point, "and she's not very nice. Perhaps my parents were just like her."

Klaus looked shocked again. "Esmé is your _aunt?"_ he cried.

"I know," I agreed and then, frowned, "you probably think I'm just like her now."

"No, I don't," Klaus said, his shocked expression fading as quickly as it had appeared. "You're a different person than Esmé and frankly, I think your parents were too. If your parents didn't care about you, they wouldn't have saved you from dying in that fire. Actually, I think that maybe your fake name was to protect you from whatever danger there was."

I sighed. "Maybe you are right," I admitted, "I just wish everything could go back to the way it was before. I don't want to be someone else. I just want to be Jane. Just Jane and nothing more."

"I know," Klaus said, gently, "I don't want things to change either, but maybe it's for the best. And if it makes you feel better, I'll still call you Jane. You'll always be Jane to me, no matter what happens."

"Really?" I said, wiping my wet eyes with the back of my hand, but my tears ceased to go away.

Klaus nodded and smiled sadly. A roll of thunder sounded causing us to turn our attention to the rainstorm that was just about to begin. I scooted closer to Klaus and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes as we listened in silence. I allowed a few tears to escape.

"You know I don't mind thunder storms so much," I said, after awhile as I opened my eyes again and glanced up at the sky. A gust of wind blew my short hair back and rain splattered on my face and clothes. "They're nice to listen to."

"As long as it's not a hurricane," Klaus said, and his smile faded. We were both reminded of Hurricane Herman and how we had to flee Aunt Josephine's doomed house. It seemed like ages ago that we were trying to sail our tiny sailboat in the middle of the storm to rescue her from Curdled Cave. I also remembered almost falling into the lake, but Klaus for some reason decided to save me.

"Do you remember how you basically saved me from plunging to my death?" I asked.

"Of course," Klaus said. "Do you remember risking your life to sneak into Shirley's office just to save me?" Klaus said, shuddering as he recalled one of Count Olaf's former disguises from our time in Paltryville. "I still can't believe you did that for me."

"I couldn't let Olaf get away with making you into a zombie," I said, looking down at my hands again, "Also…well…I was afraid because…I didn't want to lose you. You weren't yourself while you were hypnotized." I looked up at him to find Klaus gazing back at me, his brown eyes filled with concern. "I'm still afraid that I'll lose you," I continued, "I'm afraid that I'll lose your siblings too. Everything is happening so fast and it feels like I can't keep up. I mean, you and your siblings are wanted for a crime that you didn't commit, the Daily Punctilio will be announcing my sudden death sometime tomorrow, and suddenly, my name is Jamie Murray who seems to have family after all. I just don't see why it had to be Esmé, she hates me."

Klaus tightened his arm around me. "I know," he said, "but you shouldn't be worried about us. You need to worry more about yourself. Don't take this the wrong way, but you haven't looked your best lately. Here, have some more soup." Klaus picked up the can of soup and passed it to me to drink from. When I was done I passed it back so he could take some.

Then, I shrugged. "I barely notice it anymore," I said, "besides, I'm still alive and for the moment that's the most I can hope for. But you and your siblings are all alone."

Klaus didn't say anymore on the matter and neither did I. We both knew that we were in horrible situations, it didn't matter how you compared our lives. We were all alone and miserable. It made me mad that I was too helpless to help the Baudelaires. Maybe I did bring them food and warmth, but it was hardly enough.

We remained silent as we continued to watch a flash of lightning illuminate the sky. Another gust of wind sent shivers up my spine and I knew Klaus was cold too.

"Here," I said, suddenly, grabbing the blanket, "I brought this to keep us warm. There was only one so we should probably drape it over Violet and Sunny for now, in case they're cold. I guess we can use the medical coats to warm us and switch later."

Klaus nodded his approval and we put the blanket over the tarp so as not to wake Violet and Sunny, but knowing they would still be warm.

I used the spare blanket as a pillow for the two of us. We lay on the wooden floor, facing each other so we could whisper to each other. I found myself staring into Klaus' eyes. I couldn't help it when they brought me a sense of comfort. The loneliness I had felt earlier was slowly subsiding because I had Klaus with me. Klaus was looking into my eyes too and I began to wonder what he was thinking.

"How did you manage to get away?" Klaus asked then, interrupting my thoughts, "I'm surprised Olaf didn't catch you."

I shrugged. "I pretended I was sleeping," I said and then I told him about how I knocked out the white-faced women on accident.

Klaus laughed. "It's horrible that they fell down all those stairs," he said, "but after what they've done to us, I can't say I'm sorry."

"Me neither," I said, "it's too bad I have to go back, though. Olaf's going to be furious."

"I wish you wouldn't," Klaus whispered, "I don't like it when you're not with us."

"I know," I said, sadly, "but soon enough Olaf is going to come looking for me and I don't want you or your siblings around when he finds me. I'm afraid his scheming has only grown increasingly awful, as you already know and I'm afraid of what he'll do next." I realized at that moment how dangerous it was for me to be with the Baudelaires at the moment. I sat up slowly. "In fact, maybe I shouldn't even be here right now, it was selfish really." I stood up and shrugged out of my medical coat, letting it fall to the ground beside Klaus. "I'm basically putting your lives in danger by being here. I'd better go. Thanks for cheering me up and tell Violet and Sunny that I'm sorry for not having the chance to see them before."

I started to leave, but during my rambling, Klaus had gotten to his feet. He caught my wrist.

"Don't go," he said. I turned around and butterflies swarmed in my stomach when I realized his face was inches from mine, his brown eyes, soft.

"I-I have to," I said, stammering a little, "I can't put your lives in jeopardy again."

"I think we're all willing to take that risk," Klaus said, taking a step back as he realized too, how close we were. "So don't leave just yet. Stay for a while."

"Okay," I said without thinking. My conscience was telling me to go, but everything else in me wanted to lie down next to Klaus and listen to the thunder. Maybe I would stay.

We laid back down and I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, Klaus was looking at me differently, making me blush again..

We were silent again as rain began to pour heavily outside. Some of it blew in from the wind. Klaus and I shivered, moving closer together. Our hands brushed, but instead of pulling it away like I normally would've, I closed my hand around his. We didn't close our eyes, we just stared at each other again. I wondered what he was thinking.

Then, I began to realize, that despite everything, I didn't need to hide away from the world the way I thought. What I needed were the Baudelaires, particularly Klaus. To remind me that someone did care about me. They were all I had, my only family, even though we weren't technically related.

And maybe, it didn't matter if my parents loved me or not. It didn't matter whether they were villains or not, or that Esmé is really my aunt, because I had the Baudelaires. And they were just about all I needed in this horrible world. As long as I had the Baudelaires, I wouldn't be alone.

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><p><strong>I hope you liked their reunion :) Tell me in your review!<strong>


	28. Lies and Deceit

**New chapter! Thanks for all the reviews! They're much appreciated :)**

**R&R please!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: Lies and Deceit<strong>

It was still dark when I woke and I could sense Klaus next to me, still sleeping soundly. Our hands were still intertwined. Gently, I let go so I could sit up, and as I did, I felt something strange on my back. It was soft and familiar.

I reached my hand back to feel what was there. My hand grasped a chunk of my blonde hair that flowed down to my shoulder blades. My eyes widened and I shook my head, my hair moving with it. When I stopped, my hair settled back on my neck.

I sucked in my breath in a gasp. Was this real? Or was I dreaming? Could my hair really be back to normal again? I checked it again to be sure and came out with the same results.

So I pinched myself, but I didn't wake up. I didn't feel asleep.

"Klaus!" I cried in a half-whisper, shaking him gently so he would wake up and prove that I wasn't dreaming.

His eyes fluttered open and he looked a little puzzled by my abruptness. Groggily, he rubbed his eyes, put on his glasses, and looked up at me curiously, but after a moment, his eyes grew as wide as mine were.

"Jane, your hair, it's back!" Klaus cried, sitting up and looking amazed, "How did you do it?"

"I don't know," I said, full of excitement now that my long, blonde hair rested on my shoulders once more. It even looked a little improved from how it was originally. There were soft curls at the ends. "I just woke up and it was back."

Klaus cracked a tired smile. "Maybe you are Rapunzel then," he said, and I grinned back at him. My thoughts lingered to last night and I felt butterflies filling my stomach.

Last night had been one of the worst and best nights I've ever had with all of that madness about my true identity and then, my small reunion with Klaus. Now this morning was starting off as even better than I expected.

Klaus yawned then, and I knew he was still tired after staying up for part of the night. I had less sleep than he did, but somehow, I wasn't that tired. I'm sure my burst of energy wouldn't last long though.

"I'm sorry I woke you," I said quickly, "I was just so happy and I had to tell someone."

"It's alright," Klaus said, running a hand through his untidy hair. "Actually, I wanted to wake up a little early, anyways. Despite it being cold and very uncomfortable here, we do have a nice view. I was hoping to watch the sunrise."

"I've never seen the sunrise," I said, eagerly, "can I join you?"

"Of course," Klaus said, "I think everyone should see the sunrise at least once in their life."

So I watched the soft, gray sky for the sun, but it was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is the sun?" I asked.

"It's coming," Klaus said, "if only I had a watch, I'll know for sure, but it's definitely early. Usually, I'm able to tell what time it is by the sun's position in the sky, but of course, the sun isn't out quite yet."

"By just looking at the sun?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, "I mean, I've heard of sundials, but it's a little difficult to tell besides when the sun is directly overhead."

"Well, mostly it depends on the season," Klaus said, "since daylight is shorter in the winter. But it's almost the equinox. That means that soon the days will be longer. Besides that, it isn't too hard. I wish I had a copy of that book I read about the sun. It was very interesting and that's how I learned to tell time using the sun."

"I think you're forgetting that I haven't read as many books as you," I said with a grin. "What is an equinox?"

"An equinox," Klaus explained, "is when the center of the Sun is on the same plane as the Earth's equator. They usually occur twice a year, one in September and the other in March. I'm sure you've heard of daylight savings. During that time, in March, the Earth tilts so that the Sun faces the northward section of the planet. That's how the days become longer and the climate becomes warmer."

"That's nice to know," I said, my eyes filled with wonder and intrigue as I listened. I could probably sit here all day and listen to Klaus go on about the equinox. "I usually prefer it when there's more sun and light. Everything is always a bit better that way."

"I do too," Klaus agreed, looking cheerful as he continued. "The sunrise that occurs during the equinox is breathtaking. It's too bad today isn't the equinox. I would love to show you how wonderful the sun looks when it's rising."

"Maybe someday when we're out of this crazy mess, we'll have time to watch it," I said.

"Hopefully," Klaus replied, and we smiled sadly at each other. We'd been fighting to get out of this 'mess' for a long time now and we didn't seem to be making any progress.

Just then, Klaus brought my attention away from my thoughts to point out the soft glow in the sky as the sun peeked out from the horizon, as if it were a very shy sun, hiding from this dark and miserable world. The sky gradually brightened as the sun came out of it's hiding place to bring warmth and light to the world once again. The dim light cast shadows across the countryside and the sky turned orange. The sunrise was mesmerizing as it made this world that always seemed so scary, a little more beautiful and peaceful. Like a flower blooming or the first snowfall of winter.

"It's beautiful," I whispered, glancing at Klaus, my eyes full of wonder now.

It was very beautiful. So beautiful that it was impossible to describe. I've never seen anything like it. I turned my attention back to the magical, out of this world sight of the sun's golden rays awakening the new day. seemed magical and out of this world, as the golden rays awakened the new day.

"I wish it looked like that all the time," I said.

"'Nothing gold can stay.'" Klaus said as if he were reciting something he had read in a book. I looked at him curiously.

"Who says that?" I asked.

"You've never heard of that poem?" Klaus asked, "'Nothing Gold Can Stay' by Robert Frost?"

I shook my head. "I didn't have access to too many books from my boarding school's library," I said, "But if it was allowed, I would've spent all those years in that library, well, except when I got hungry or thirsty."

Klaus smiled, and I knew he probably would spend his entire life in a library if he could.

"So how does the poem go?" I asked.

Klaus looked eager as he launched into the recitation of the poem. It made me smile to see him like this. Through all of this madness, it had felt like every ounce of happiness was coming to an end, but the way his eyes lit up as he recited the poem, made me believe every word he said, as if he had written it himself:

"'Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day,

Nothing gold can stay.'"

Klaus finished the poem. "Do you like it?"

"It's a wonderful poem," I said, giving him a smile, "I wish I knew of it before. I love the sun. It always makes everything just a little brighter."

Klaus and I watched the sunrise again. I thought about the poem as we did and occasionally would ask Klaus a question about the sun. I learned that the June 21st or sometimes the 22nd was the summer solstice, or the longest day of the year, while the winter solstice usually on December 21st or the 22nd was the shortest day of the year. I decided that my favorite was the summer solstice.

Violet and Sunny woke up after the sun had finally risen high enough that golden glow it had cast was faded. Violet and Sunny were excited to see that I was here. After explaining everything about my true identity, Violet and Sunny were just as shocked as Klaus, but they didn't turn away from me the way I thought.

"Did you say something about an anagram?" Violet asked when I was done and reached into her pocket to pull out the leftover scraps of paper from the Quagmire notebooks. I nodded. "That's what Count Olaf said it was called."

"So it's not a name like we originally thought," Violet said, "how do anagrams work?"

"Well, they're codes sort of," I explained, "it's when you take a name or a word and jumbled the letters to form a new phrase or name. They're usually used to hide locations or, in my case, my true name."

"So, then is the name, Al Funcoot an anagram of some other name?" Violet asked. "who's name could it be?"

My eyebrows furrowed as I thought about it. "I'm not sure."  
>"Well, we have to get to the Library of Records now," Klaus said, "we can discuss it later after we've had a chance to think it through. We'll also have to figure out a plan to find that file about us under Snicket fires or something."<p>

"Rejuki?" Sunny said, which meant, "What about Jane? We can't leave her alone out here all day while we're working."

"I'm sure Hal will let Jane help too," Klaus said, "with his impaired sight, I'm sure he needs all the help that he can get."

They all agreed and I followed the Baudelaires out of the unfinished half of the hospital. Soon enough, we entered the antechamber of the Library of Records and then through the doors.

When we arrived, Hal was already busy working. The Baudelaires guided me over to Hal, who wore a pair of glasses over his squinty eyes. It looked like he might have impaired vision. Hal's squinty gaze fell to me almost immediately and the Baudelaires explained that I was here to help. After introducing himself to me, Hal said that he was fine with having another helper. He explained how everything worked in the Library of Records and the Baudelaires and I set off to work.

I tried to find the file the Baudelaires were looking for, but every time I entered aisle S, Hal was there. When I tried aisle B for Baudelaire, I found Sunny peering into the cabinet. She told me in her unusual language that it was empty.

"Nil," Sunny muttered as we took a break in the anteroom where a bowl of fruit sat. By 'Nil' Violet explained Sunny meant, "The file cabinet for Baudelaire was completely empty."

"I couldn't find anything either," I said, frowning in disappointment. "I tried looking under Snicket, but Hal was always in the way."

"How will we get ahold of the file without getting caught by Hal?" Klaus asked.

"Why don't we ask him to find it for us?" Violet suggested. "If this were a regular library, we would ask the librarian for help. In a Library of Records, perhaps we should ask Hal."

"Feel free to ask me whatever you want," Hal said as he entered the antechamber, "but first I have to ask you something." Hal pointed to one of the fruits inside the bowl. "Is that a plum or a persimmon?" he asked, "My eyesight isn't what it used to be, I'm afraid."

"It's a plum," Violet said as she handed it to him.

"That's good," Hal said, "I was not in the mood for a persimmon. Now, what is it that you wanted to ask me?"

"We had a question about a particular file," Klaus started and I could see he was choosing his words very carefully, "I realize it isn't customary for us to read the files, but if we were very curious, would it be alright to make an exception?"

"Why do you want to read one of the files?" he asked after taking a bite of the plum, "Children should read happy books with bright pictures, not official information from the Library of Records."

"Happy books are way too boring," I said, "You can't have a good story without a good conflict."

"But we're interested in official information," Violet insisted, "and we're so busy filing things away that we don't get a chance to read anything in the files. That's why we hoped to take one home with us and read it."

Hal disapproved by shaking his head. "Paperwork is the most important thing we do in this hospital," he said, strictly. "That's why the files aren't allowed to be taken from the room if there's a very important reason. For example—"

Hal was interrupted by a voice over the intercom.

"Attention! Attention! Attention!" We were facing the speaker now and listening to the voice…that voice, which made chills run down my spine because that voice belonged to someone in particular who I knew very well. And now, whatever content I had begun to feel since I found the Baudelaires in the unfinished half of the hospital, was quickly fading and I knew my time with them would end soon. "Attention!" Count Olaf or Mattathias' terrible voice screeched.

Then Mattathias continued on about Bab's mysterious resignation to become a stuntwoman and then introduced himself as the new Head of Human Resources. But it wasn't those parts that made my eyes grow very wide.

"…I will be conducting a complete inspection of every single employee here at Heimlich Hospital, starting immediately. That is all."

Hal was saying something about how absurd it was to have an inspection, but only the Baudelaires and I knew the true reasons why they were happening. Soon enough, Olaf would reach us and have come up with a plan to snatch all four of us from the hospital before either of us could cry for help.

And I knew then, how stupid it was of me to have stayed with the Baudelaires. I had been right to leave last night and I wished I had followed through. Then, I wouldn't have put the Baudelaire's lives in danger once again. it seemed like everything I did to protect them backfired. And I knew if this backfires, the Baudelaires will be the ones to suffer again.

"We'll be along in a moment," Klaus promised when Hal announced the end of our lunch break. "I'm not quite done with my fruit."

"Well, hurry up," Hal said as he retreated back into the Library of Records.

When he was gone, I sank into one of the chairs. I began to feel as though I had been like the rising sun when I had reunited with my friends and now, just like the sun, I would have to lose it again and return to Olaf's clutches. And that terrified me to death because I knew he was just going to hurt me again. But if I stayed, he could hurt the Baudelaires too.

"He's found us again," Violet said, looking just as miserable as I felt. My ears were ringing and I felt my breath quickening in panic. The same shortness of breath I would feel when he started kicking and punching at me again.  
>"Jane told me he knows we're here," Klaus said, "He found out from the owner of the Last Chance General Store. That's why he's doing the inspection—so he can find us and snatch us away."<p>

"This is all my fault," I said, putting my head in my hands, "if I hadn't come here, he wouldn't have a reason to come looking for you so soon. Maybe this is a sign that I should go back and maybe that will put off the inspection. He'll be too furious with me to think about anything else."

Violet seemed to notice my panic and placed a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay, Jane," she said, "Calm down. You're not going anywhere, Jane." Sunny and Klaus nodded in agreement.  
>"But if I don't go, he'll hurt you too," I said, "and I can't let that happen because of me."<br>"Well, we're not going to let Olaf hurt you," Klaus said, "There's no question about it. If Olaf wants you back, he'll have to come for you himself. And we're not letting you go that easily. It's not fair that you have to suffer because of us. It's better that we stick together."

"But if Mattathias does come and snatch us away," I warned them, "he's only going to spare one of you. And this time, there'll be a very slim chance of getting out."

"That's no reason to go willingly back into his clutches," Klaus replied.

"Tell!" Sunny said.

"Who can we tell?" Klaus asked, "Everyone thinks Count Olaf is dead. They won't believe four children if we say he's disguised himself as Mattathias, the new Head of Human Resources."

"Particularly if three of those children are on the front page of The Daily Punctilio," Violet pointed out, "wanted for murder."

"And if Olaf followed through with his most recent plan then," I said, "everyone probably thinks I'm dead too."

"Right," Klaus said, "so our only chance is to get that file on the Snicket fires and see if any evidence will help bring Olaf to justice."

"Unfortunately, the evidence I recovered is in the possession of someone else," I said, thinking of how I gave Lemony Snicket the tape. But I guess it was safer with him than anyone else. "But if we're going to find the file, we'll have to do it very soon. I'm afraid we're not the only ones looking for it."

"You mean, Olaf knows about the file?" Violet asked. I nodded and the Baudelaires frowned.  
>"Then, we really do need to get a move on," Klaus said.<p>

"But the files aren't allowed out of the Library of Records," Violet said.

"Then, we'll need to read them right here," I said.

"That's easier said than done," Klaus pointed out, "We have no idea what letter to look under and Hal will be right in the room with us all day long."

"And the Baudelaire file cabinet is empty," I said, "like Sunny mentioned. That's what Olaf has been calling the file."

"Night!" Sunny shrieked.

"Sunny's right," Violet said, "Hal is here all day long, but he goes home at night. When it gets dark, we'll sneak back over from the unfinished half of the hospital. It's the only way we'll be able to find the file."

"You're forgetting something," Klaus said. "The Library of Records will be locked up tight. Hal locks all the file cabinets, remember?"

"I didn't think about that," Violet admitted, "I can invent a lockpick, but I'm not sure I'll have time to invent enough lockpicks to work on all of those file cabinets."

"Deashew!" Sunny said, which meant, "and it takes me several hours to open on cabinet with my teeth."

"Do you have anything, Jane?" Klaus asked, "How did you manage to open the cabinet with the Murray file?"

"Well, I stole keys from Olaf's office, but they only worked on the door to enter the Library of Records," I said, "The file cabinet was already open when I got there. When Olaf caught me, he took the keys away of course, so unfortunately I'm of no use."

"Without the keys, we'll never get the file," Klaus said, "and without the file, we'll never defeat Count Olaf. What can we do?"

We all sighed heavily and thought as hard as we could to come up with a solution. After a moment, all three Baudelaires were staring intensely at the bowl of fruit. As I followed their gaze, they were looking directly at the persimmon.

Then it dawned on me. If Hal couldn't tell the difference between certain fruit, could we possibly trick him into giving us the keys?

We worked all afternoon, each of us becoming gradually uneasy as we thought about our plan to sneak into the Library of Records tonight. When we finished and went back out into the anteroom with Hal, the quivers in my stomach seemed to only get worse.

"Is it absolutely necessary to do this?" Violet asked for our ears only. She took her hair ribbon out of her pocket and smoothed it out so there weren't any tangles. "It's not a nice thing to do."

"I know," Klaus said as he held out his hand for Sunny to give him the paperclips. "I have a quiver in my stomach just thinking about it. But it's the only way we can get our hands on that file."

"Before Mattathias does," I said.

As I said it, his voice came over the intercom.

"Attention! Attention!" he was saying. "This is Mattathias, the new Head of Human Resources. Inspections are over for the day but will continue tomorrow."

"What nonsense," Hal muttered as he put the loop of keys down on the table.

"Also," the announcement continued, "if anyone in the hospital has any valuables of any kind, please bring them to the Human Resources office for safekeeping. Thank you."

"My eyeglasses are somewhat valuable," Hal said as he took them off, "but I'm not going to bring them to the Human Resources office. I might never see them again."

"That's probably true," Violet said, shaking her head.

I was too nervous to be too annoyed by Mattathias's attempts to steal more valuables. I crossed my arms and tried to stop from shifting my feet.

"Besides," Hal said, giving us a smile, "nobody's going to steal anything from me. You four are the only people I see at the hospital, and I trust you absolutely. Now, where did I put my keys?"

"Here they are," Violet said, and she held out the fake set of keys we made out of Violet's hair ribbon, which was tied together, and a bunch of paper clips that Sunny fashioned in different ways to look like keys.

"Those are my keys?" Hal said doubtfully. "I thought I put them down on the table."

"Oh, no," Klaus said, quickly, moving in front of the table to hide the real keys. "Violet has them."

"Here," Violet said, "why don't I put them in your coat pocket for you?"

"Thank you," Hal said as Violet dropped them into the pocket of his coat. He smiled at us, his eyes gleaming, "That's another way you four have helped me. My eyesight's not what it used to be, you know, so I'm glad I can rely on such good volunteers. Well, good night, children. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Hal," Klaus replied, "We're just going to have one last piece of fruit here in the anteroom."

"Don't spoil your dinner," Hal said, "It's cold out and I bet both your parents have cooked up a nice hot meal." Hal smiled and closed the door behind him, leaving us alone with the real keys.

"Someday," Violet said quietly, "We'll apologize to Hal for playing a trick on him, and explain why we had to break the rules. This wasn't a nice thing to do, even though it was necessary."

"And we'll return to the Last General Store," Klaus said, "and explain to the shopkeeper why we had to run away."

"Twisp," Sunny said firmly, "But not until we get ahold of the file, solve these mysteries, and prove our innocence."

"And send Olaf to prison once and for all," I added.

But as I said it, guilt seized my stomach. I didn't like the idea of deceiving someone, even though it was necessary, but the Baudelaire's needed to be proved innocent and I did want to be responsible for bringing Olaf to justice. Not just for me, but for the Quagmires, the Baudelaires, all of our former guardians who'd been hurt by Olaf's scheming, and Jacques Snicket. Stealing may be wrong, but murder shouldn't go unpunished. So I tried to convince myself that this act wouldn't cause anyone pain or suffering, but it was all the more unsettling.

* * *

><p><strong>Review! :)<strong>


	29. The Baudelaire File

**New chapter and so soon :) **

**Anyways R&R as usual and ENJOY!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six: The Baudelaire File<strong>

"Let's get started," Violet said, "Klaus, see if you can find the right key for the Library door."

Klaus nodded and brought the keys over to the door. Within a matter of minutes, Klaus found the right key and we were entering the Library of Records again.

"I'm going to lock the door behind us," Klaus said, "so that nobody will get suspicious if they happen to walk into the anteroom."

"Like Mattathias," I said, "last time I was in here, he found me almost too easily. The Library of Records will probably be on the top of his list of places to search for me."

"Vapey," Sunny said, which meant, "Then let's hurry."

"Let's start with the S aisle," Violet said, "For Snicket."

"Great idea," I said, intrigued to find out more about Jacques and Lemony Snicket, and of course the Baudelaires too. I just hoped whatever the file had to say about the Baudelaires was better than the file I had found about myself. So Klaus locked the door and we found the S aisle. We read the labels on the file cabinets as we walked by to figure out which one to open. "Sauce to Saxifrage," Klaus read aloud, "That means anything that falls alphabetically between the word 'sauce' and 'saxifrage' will be in this file cabinet. That would be fine if we wanted the Sawmill file."

"Or the Sauna file," Violet said, "Let's move on."

We moved on and reading the labels aloud as we passed by each file cabinet.

"Sludge to Smoke," I said and we shook our heads again.

"Snack to Snifter," Klaus said.

"Snowball to Sober." Violet said.

"Sonnet to Spackle," I said.

"Wait!" Klaus cried, "Back up! Snicket is between Snack and Snifter."

"You're right, Klaus," I said.

Violet nodded in agreement. "I was so distracted by all the strange file names that I forgot what we were looking for. Here it is, Snack to Snifter. Let's hope the file we're looking for is here."

Klaus found the right key after three tries. It should be in the bottom drawer close to Snifter. Let's look."

We searched through the file cabinet, but there was no sign of Snicket anywhere. We sighed in disappointment and Klaus locked the file cabinet.

"Let's try the J aisle for Jacques," Violet suggested.

"Shh," Sunny said.

"No, Sunny," Klaus said, gently, "I don't think the H aisle is a good bet. Why would Hal have filed it under H?"

"Shh," Sunny insisted and pointed at the door. Klaus explained to me that he had misunderstood and Sunny was trying to say, "Be quiet! I think I hear someone walking into the anteroom of the Library of Records." We listened and I could here a strange clomping noise of something and teetering footsteps that sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it. The footsteps were growing closer and closer, before they stopped and there was a rattling noise as someone tried to open the door.

"Maybe it's Hal," Violet whispered, "trying to unlock the door with a paper clip."

"Or maybe it's Mattathias," I whispered, desperately hoping Violet was right. I'd rather it be Hal than anyone else, "coming for us."

"Or Esmé Squalor," Klaus whispered and glanced my way.

"Janitor," Sunny whispered.

"Well, whoever it is," Violet said, "we'd better hurry to the J aisle."

We tiptoed to the J aisle and walked down it, reading the labels as we went.

"That's it!" Klaus whispered, abruptly when Sunny read the label, Jackline to Jacutinga. "Jacques will be in Jackline to Jacutinga."

"We hope," I said, as the door rattled again.

Klaus quickly found the right key and opened the drawer to look for Jacques. But again, we found nothing.

"Fire!" Klaus whispered, locking the cabinet, "Let's try the F aisle."

"And hurry," Violet said, "It sounds like the person in the anteroom is picking the lock."

I could hear a muffled scratching from behind the door and I figured something long and thin was being stuck in the keyhole to try to unlock the lock. Hastily, we tiptoed toward the F aisle.

"Fear to Fermat."

"Ficus to Filth."

Fin de Siècle to Fissle—here it is!"

Once again, we looked through the file cabinet in the hopes of finding a file labeled 'Fire', but I figured it was too broad of a label to be listed on a file. Of course, we couldn't find it and again we were disappointed.

"What will we do?" I asked, as the door rattled again, "Where else could the file be?"

"Let's try to think," Klaus said, "What did Hal say about the file? We know it has to do with Jacques Snicket, and with fire."

"Prem!" Sunny said, meaning, "But Fire, Snicket, and Jacques aren't in the Library of Records."

"There must be something else," Violet said, "We have to find this file. I has crucial information about Jacques Snicket and V.F.D."

"And about us," Klaus said, "Don't forget that."

We all glanced at each other as we realized at the same time.

"It is the Baudelaire file!" I whispered, "Let's go."

We hurried to the B aisle and stopped when we reached Bat Mitzvah to Bavarian Cream. After nine attempts, Klaus found the right key to fit the lock and to our delight, there was a folder marked 'Baudelaire'.

"It's here," Klaus said, as he took the folder out of the drawer, his hands shaking.

"What does it say? What does it say?" Violet asked, excitedly.

"Look," Klaus said, "There's a note on the front."

"Read it!" Sunny said, in a frantic whisper.

The door began to shake violently on it's hinges as whoever it was grew frustrated. Klaus held up the file so he could read it. "All thirteen pages of the Snicket file," he read, "have been removed from the Library of Records for the official investigation." I glanced at Klaus and saw that his eyes welled with tears. "That must be when Hal saw our picture," he said, "When he removed the file and gave it to the official investigators." He dropped the file to the floor and sat down beside it in despair.

I frowned and knelt down beside Klaus, touching his hand gently so he would meet my gaze.

"But that doesn't mean all is lost," I said, "if what you said is true, and there is evidence in that file, won't the official investigators see it, and understand that you're innocent? I would rather it be in the hands of the authorities than in the reach of Olaf who probably intended to use it to worsen your situation. So don't give up. It'll all fall into place eventually." I said the last sentence to reassure Klaus, but it was a lie because I wasn't sure if it would all work out. Who knew what could go wrong despite the file being in the hands of officials.

"Wait," Violet said, and we looked in the direction she was pointing. Behind the note, there was a single sheet of paper. "It's page thirteen," Violet said, "The investigators must have left it behind by mistake."

"That's why you should keep paper clips on papers that belong together," Klaus said, "even when you file them. But what does the page say?"

Suddenly, there was a loud bang as the door to the Library of Records was knocked off its hinges. But I didn't pay much attention as we all sat on the floor and looked at page thirteen of the file, in amazement.

The thirteenth page had a single photograph stapled into place and below that was only one sentence typed.

The photograph was of four people, standing together at what looked like 667 Dark Avenue. The first person in the photo was Jacques Snicket, who was looking at the photographer and smiling. Tears filled my eyes as I looked at his cheerful face; my godfather and then, I had to squeeze my eyes tightly shut to erase the horrible memories that came along with him. I wondered if I would ever be able to think of or see Jacques Snicket without cringing and nearly bursting to tears. The person next to Jacques was facing away from the camera, so his face was concealed, but one of his hands clutched a notebook and pen, indicating he was a writer of some sort. Then, I realized it was Monty Kensicle, or Lemony Snicket, reminding me that I'd seen his alias on the list of patients. I made a mental note to myself to look into it later.

Next to the two Snicket's were two other people, I didn't recognize.

"It's our parents," Violet whispered in awe.

Then Klaus began to read the sentence below it: "Because of the evidence discussed on page nine," it read, "experts now suspect that there may in fact be one survivor of the fire, but the survivor's whereabouts are unknown."

"I'd never thought I'd live to see the day," Violet said, in amazement.

"Me neither," Klaus said. "I never thought we'd see our parents again."

"Neither me," Sunny said.

"This photograph must have been taken a long time ago," Violet said, "Look how much younger they look. They aren't even wearing their wedding rings."

"Because of the evidence discussed on page nine," Klaus read again, "experts now suspect that there may in fact be one survivor of the fire, but the survivor's whereabouts are unknown." He stopped and looked at us. "What does that mean?" he said, in a very small voice. "Does that mean one of our parents is still alive?"

"I don't know," Violet said, sounding just as faint, "maybe."

"Look," I said, pointing to the Lemony Snicket, "Klaus, that's Mo—"

"Well, well, well," a very familiar and sneering voice spoke from in front of us. "Look what we have here."

We had been so immersed in the file, that we had forgotten all about the person breaking into the Library of Records. I didn't need to look up to recognize her voice. Esmé Squalor stood in front of us wearing the same ridiculous outfit as yesterday.

"I am Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor," Esmé said, as if we couldn't recognize her. "This is a pleasant surprise," Esmé said, "Olaf asked me to break in here and destroy the Baudelaire file, but now we can destroy the Baudelaires as well."

"Leave my friends alone," I cried angrily, getting to my feet so I could put myself in between Esmé and the Baudelaires.

Esmé laughed. "Trying to be brave, Jane?" she sneered, "or should I say Jamie? Olaf is dying to see you. After we discovered you had escaped again, Olaf didn't want to come for you until the moment was right. But it looks like we won't have to wait any longer. To think how happy he'll be when I bring him the Baudelaires as well."  
>"You're not touching them," I said, "you can take me, but as long as you leave the Baudelaires alone."<p>

"It sounds like soon I'll need to give you a very important lesson as to why we should hate the Baudelaires," Esmé said, "I can't have you going around so clueless, even if I don't like you. Now where is the Baudelaire file?"

"You and Olaf know about the file?" Violet asked.

Esmé laughed again and smiled nastily. "Of course we know about the file," she snarled, "that's why I'm here—to destroy all thirteen pages." She took a step toward us and the Baudelaires, who were now standing, took a step back. I held my ground though and glared up at Esmé, thinking of ways I could stop her. It didn't matter if I got hurt trying. Afterall, I was the reason the Baudelaires got into this mess so it was my job to get them out. "That's why we destroyed Jacques Snicket." She took another step forward. "And that's why we're going to destroy you." She looked down at her shoe and shook it to get the stiletto out of the floor. "Heimlich Hospital is about to have three new patients," she said, "but I'm afraid it'll be too late for any doctor to save their lives."

"Maybe not a doctor," I said, "but I will."

I could hear the Baudelaires taking steps away from Esmé again. "Who survived the fire?" Klaus asked Esmé, holding up the file. He was the only one who wasn't stepping back from Esmé; in fact he stepped closer to where I was. "Is one of our parents alive?" He was right behind me now, but I didn't have time to turn and tell him to run. I didn't want Esmé to catch me off guard.

Esmé tried to grab the page from his hands. _"Did you read the file?"_ she demanded in a terrible voice. _"What does it say?"_

"You'll never find out!" Violet cried. "Run!" She said to us.

I wasn't planning on going with them, but in the instant that Violet cried for us to run, Klaus grabbed my arm to tow me along with them. I sighed and decided I would run too. I wasn't sure if I would've made it out alive if I had stayed.

We ran down the B aisle until we reached where all of the C files were stored.

"We're running the wrong way," Klaus said.

"Egress," Sunny agreed, which meant, "Klaus is right—the exit is the other way."

"So is Esmé," Violet replied, "Somehow we'll have to go around her."

"I can distract her while you run for the exit," I suggested.

"No," Klaus said, "She'll catch you."

"That doesn't matter," I said, "you three just need to get out of here before Esmé catches up to us. It doesn't matter if I get caught, as long as you're safe."

"I'm coming for you!" Esmé cried, "You'll never escape, orphans!"

"Jane, we're not leaving you behind," Klaus said, "how many times do I have to tell you?"

We paused at one of the files labeled "Conch to Condy's Fluid," and listened to Esmé's tottering steps coming for us.

"Just let me go and distract her," I said, quickly, "I promise I'll be fine."

But Klaus wouldn't hear of it so I sighed heavily.

"We're lucky she's wearing those ridiculous shoes," Klaus said, changing the subject, "We can run much faster than she can."

"As long as she doesn't think of taking them off," Violet said. "She's almost as clever as she is greedy. If you tried to distract her, Jane, she might hurt you with them."

"Shh!" Sunny said, and we listened as Esmé abruptly stopped. I could hear her muttering to herself for a moment before we heard it. There was a long, screechy creak, and then a booming crash, and then another long creak, and another booming crash. They continued to get louder and louder.

"She's knocking over the file cabinets!" Violet cried, pointing over one of the file cabinets, "They're toppling over like dominos!"

I could see she was right from the sight of one file cabinet lying on the ground, and another, and another, which pushed over a heavy metal cabinet to crash down on us. Violet grabbed us and pulled us out of the path of the falling cabinet. Then the cabinet fell right where we had been standing. It was a close call, a very close call.

"I'm going to flatten you!" Esmé called, as she started on another line of cabinets. "Olaf and I are going to have a romantic breakfast of Baudelaire and Murray pancakes!"

"Run!" Sunny cried, but I didn't need any urging. All four of us hurried down the rest of the C aisle, avoiding the cabinets that were falling all around us.

"Where can we go?" I cried.

"To the D aisle!" Klaus answered, but just then, a row of file cabinets began to topple. "No! The E aisle!"

"B?" Violet asked.

"E!" Klaus cried, "E as in Exit!"

We ran down the E aisle, only to have to make a detour when the F aisle had cabinets falling to the ground as well as the G and H aisles. Soon enough, we were as far from the anteroom door as possible. We found ourselves in the area of the Library of Records where information was deposited. I looked at the basket of papers, the bowl of paper clips, and the mouth of the chute, trying to figure out what to do.

"Violet," Klaus said hesitantly, "do you think you can invent something out of paper clips and a basket that could help get us out of here?"

"I don't have to," Violet said, "That chute will serve as an exit."

I looked at the chute and knew that there was no way Violet would fit in there.

"But you won't fit in there," Klaus said, "I'm not even sure I will."

"You're never going to get out of this room alive, you imbeciles!" Esmé cried in her terrible voice.

"We'll have to try," Violet said, "Sunny, go first."

"Prapil," Sunny said, doubtfully and went in first.

"Now you, Klaus," Violet said. Klaus removed his glasses so he could follow Sunny inside.

"Now you, Jane," Violet said.

I shook my head. "I'm not going," I said, "Klaus barely fits and you're definitely not going to fit at all."

"Then I'll find another way," Violet said. Her voice was calm, but I could see that her eyes were wide with fear. "Go in, Jane."

But I refused to leave Violet by herself. She was no match for the file cabinets alone.

"That's out of the question," Klaus said, "We'll climb back out and the four of us will escape together."

"We can't risk it," Violet said. "Esmé won't catch all of us, not if we split up. You three take page thirteen and go up the chute, and I'll get out another way. We'll meet up in the unfinished wing."

"I'm staying here," I said, "you can't face Esmé alone, she's too much."

"No!" Sunny cried.

"Sunny's right," Klaus said, "This is what happened before, with the Quagmires and Jane, remember? We left the Quagmires and Jane behind and they were snatched away."

"The Quagmires are safe now," I said, "and I'll be fine."

"Don't worry, I'll invent a solution," Violet said, giving us a small smile, and reached into her pocket for her hair ribbon. Her smile faded then, and I realized it must not be there because we used it for the fake loop of keys.

Abruptly, a cabinet began to fall right where we were standing and I pulled Violet out of the way just in time. But the cabinet had fallen against the chute and was blocking the mouth of the chute.

"Violet! Jane!" Sunny cried. Her and Klaus tried to push the cabinet aside, but it was too heavy.

"We're okay," Violet called back.

"Not for long you're not!" Esmé snarled, from a few aisles over.

"Let's go," I cried and the two of us hurried for another aisle, but there were so many cabinets crashing that it was hard to find anywhere to go.

"Leave us here!" Violet insisted, calling back to her siblings, "We'll meet you back in our filthy, cold, inappropriate home."

Just then, there was another creak and crash, but we managed to jump out of the way in the nick of time. We ran for the S aisle now, which didn't look too bad. It was also near the exit so I hoped we would make it without having to take any more detours.

"You can't run forever!" Esmé cried and there was another crash as a file cabinet at the end of the aisle fell.

"We'll have to go back!" Violet cried, sounding more afraid than I'd ever seen her. Seeing Violet afraid, made all the hope I had vanish. I always thought Violet wasn't afraid of anything, or at least she was very brave. And now, the eldest Baudelaire, who I looked up to the most, sounded as vulnerable and helpless as I felt.

Violet began to run in the other direction, but before I could follow, I was horror struck to see a file cabinet beginning to topple right in the path she was headed.

"Look out!" I cried and lunged forward to try and push Violet out of harms way, but as I reached her, the file cabinet next to it began to fall too, causing me to jump back so I wouldn't get flattened.

The force of the two cabinets, crushed Violet and she fell forward. The cabinets pinned her to the ground so I couldn't see her anymore.

"Violet!" I cried, hurrying over to the fallen cabinets that were binding her body to the floor.

There was no answer and I tried desperately, to pull the cabinet off of her.

"Violet!" I cried again, feeling tears in my eyes. What was I going to do now? "You're next, Blondie," Esmé cried in her horrible voice. "I'll flatten you too!"

Just then, the file cabinet above where I was standing crashed down. I narrowly escaped and frantically continued to pull the file cabinet off of Violet, but it was far too heavy for a mere ten-year old girl. Then suddenly, it lifted and floated in the air right in front of my very wide eyes. The floating cabinet moved to the side, clearing the path enough for me to go through.

I could see Violet now and I grabbed her arm to pull her from the wreckage. She was unconscious, but other than that she looked fine.

I locked my arm tightly around her waste, letting her lean against me as I tried as best as I could to carry her and find a way out. But file cabinets surrounded us and more were beginning to fall.

Some of them were stacked on top of each other and I felt the only thing left to do was to climb.

So using all my strength, I climbed on top of one of the file cabinets and then another. I was high enough to see a little over the tops of the file cabinets. Esmé was only a few aisles away, starting on another row of cabinets.

"I can see you, orphan!" Esmé cried, "Climbing won't stop the file cabinets from crushing you."

I managed to jump down from the cabinets to the other side where there was a clear path to the anteroom door, which had fallen off its hinges and lay flat on the ground. It was getting closer now and I sped up. The one thing that I'd always been great at besides acting, singing, and dancing, was running. And despite carrying Violet, I ran quite smoothly and soon I was so close that I was able to catch a glimpse of the table with the bowl of fruit in the center. Just a little further.

I was almost there when suddenly a few more cabinets came down in front of me, blocking my path and creating a tall stack. I stopped before I nearly ran into them and turned to go in the other direction, but file cabinets were piled on top of each other on this side too.

I went to climb the file cabinets again, but they were so smooth and slippery that I had trouble grab hold this time. I grit my teeth and kept climbing, carrying Violet along with me. Supporting Violet's weight in the state I was in proved to be the real challenge. For one thing, she was fourteen and quite tall, and I had gotten so skinny over these last few months, that I barely had any muscle left. I guess that factor was partially the reason why when I reached the top, I lost my balance because before I could begin to climb down, the highest cabinet fell forward causing me to fall with it, letting go of Violet as I plummeted to the ground. I tried to get up, but as I hit the ground, the file cabinet that had been underneath the top one of the stack lost its balance and was crashing down on top of me.

I could hear Esmé cackling as she emerged and took tottering steps toward us, but soon my ears began to lose hearing as if they were filled with water. My vision was clouded too so I could barely see, which didn't help the fact that the room was spinning.

But before I could sink into unconsciousness completely, I saw something strange. It was as if I were in a state in between reality and illusion. It was too hard to tell if what I saw was real, but I could make out someone standing not too far away, just a little behind Esmé, but it didn't look like Esmé knew the person was there. It must have been a trick of the light and the fact that I was half-unconscious though, because whoever it was looked blurry and dark so the only thing that I could really make out were the person's eyes, which were a vibrant shade of dark blue. Then, everything went pitch black.

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><p><strong>Review! <strong>

**And thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far :) They're all very much appreciated!**


	30. The Surgical Ward

**_So it's been a while since i've updated...sorry for the wait but i hope everyone had a great holiday :) and enjoy this next chapter!_**

*********Note: This chapter is where it becomes a Teen rated*********

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven: The Surgical Ward<strong>

I woke with a start and jolted into an upright position, causing me to get immediate head rush. I shook my head and looked around as I tried to make sense of where I was. I knew I was on some kind of hospital bed and above me was an annoyingly bright light that made me squint. I looked down and saw the dirty sheets and even filthier gown I wore. Wherever I was, it wasn't very clean, which could only mean one thing. This room was occupied by villains.

Then, I remembered that the last time I was awake, I was dodging file cabinets to get away from Esmé Squalor. And I remember I had been carrying something or someone. Violet!

Before I could think about anything more, I was hopping down from the hospital bed and faced a wall of white curtains that surrounded the bed. Not wanting to be seen by Esmé or whoever else was around, I got down on my knees and crawled underneath the curtain. On the other side, another hospital bed with wheels was in the center, everything surrounded by another wall of curtains. There was also a tray of medical supplies that perched on top of a stand at the foot of the bed. All of the utensils looked aged, dull, and tarnished. I shuddered at a particularly dirty looking syringe.

But I would worry about the sanitation requirements of hospitals later. Right now, I needed to find Violet and get both of us out of here before Olaf, Esmé, or one of his many associates catches us. As I got to my feet, I could see that the bed was occupied.

Violet lay under some soiled sheets and wore a white gown like mine, but her gown looked even filthier. The gown only seemed to make her look even paler reminding me of a China doll. One of her hands was drooped over the side of the bed and her hair was messily covering her closed eyes.

I stepped toward her cautiously and listened carefully in case someone was coming. Then, I reached out and gently smoothed her hair back from her face so she at least looked more recognizable.

"Violet," I whispered, "Violet, wake up."

She didn't stir and so I gently shook her shoulders to wake her.

"Violet," I said again, "Violet, Violet." Waves of guilt washed over me as I realized that this was my entire fault. Violet was probably dead or close to it because I failed to save her.

Then, her nose wrinkled and her hand twitched, giving life to my hope.

"Violet," I cried a little louder, "Wake up, we have to get out of here fast!"

Violet's lips moved as if she was trying to say something but no sound came out.

"There's no time to explain," I said, shaking her again, "they're going to do something bad to you if we don't get out now. Come on."

Her eyes fluttered open and I urged her with my eyes.

"J-Jane?" she said, "w-where are we? What h-happened?"

"I don't know exactly," I said, "but we're somewhere in the hospital where we shouldn't be. Olaf probably has some kind of plan cooked up to hurt you, or Klaus and Sunny. We have to get out of here, and then we'll find Klaus and Sunny. You're not going to like this, but I think it's about time we left Heimlich hospital for good even if it means walking. So come on."

Violet seemed to agree with me because she slid out of the bed, but stumbled a bit. I let her lean on my shoulder as we turned to leave. But as we turned, we found that the curtains were open and none other than Count Olaf still disguised as a doctor stood there. The bald man and the hook-handed man stood behind him, wearing their horrible disguises. None of them looked happy to see us.

"I'm glad to see you're both awake," Olaf said, casually as if we were merely discussing the weather, "now my real plans can start."

"Where are we?" Violet demanded.

"Are you really that stupid?" Olaf scoffed, "You're in a hospital room, of course. In the Surgical Ward and one of you is going to be a patient," his gaze moved from me to Violet, "unfortuantely, it'll be too late for any doctor to save her."

I moved to position myself in between them, planting my feet firmly.

"Maybe not a doctor," I said, "But I will."

Olaf took a step toward us. "And what are you going to do about it, Blondie?" He raised an eyebrow, mockingly because he knew that I had nothing planned.

"You won't get away with this," Violet said, trying to sound brave but her voice shook. "My siblings will come, I know they will."

That made his associates snicker as they also stepped closer. "Oh, really?" Olaf said, his eyes growing very shiny. "Well, when they do, I'll be sure they have front row seats to watch. I'm sure they won't want to miss watching medical professionals operate on that clever brain of yours."

"Stay back!" I cried, "No one's brain is being operated on."

"As for you, Blondie," Olaf continued as if I hadn't spoken. "You'll be with me, while I destroy the Library of Records, and then, you'll help me find the rest of the bratty orphans."

"Well, you can save your breath because I'm not going to do any of that," I said.

I quickly looked for a way past them and the first thing that came to mind was to defend ourselves. I grabbed for a scary looking scalpel and held it up, trying to look threatening, but the blade was dull-looking and rusty. Count Olaf and his associates merely laughed wickedly as if my attempts to defend myself were just a joke to them. They took another step closer.

I didn't back up even though I wanted to, I couldn't show that I was afraid. I would never save Violet if I couldn't be brave.

"Don't come any closer," I warned him.

"Are you going to stab me with that scalpel if I don't?" Olaf asked, raising an eyebrow and not looking even a little bit scared.

"I might," I said, though my voice shook with fear.

"You know, my associates told me something odd earlier," Count Olaf said, ignoring me, "Dr. Tocuna and Nurse Flo won't be able to participate in my scheme because they've both received bad concussions somehow. You wouldn't know how that happened, would you?"

Olaf cocked his head and took a few more steps towards me. I raised the scalpel higher, but my hands were uncontrollably shaking. I shook my head.

"Liar!" Olaf growled and his hands reached out, grabbing hold of my throat. I jerked and tried desperately to breathe. While Olaf strangled me, the hook handed man and the bald man snatched Violet who struggled to escape from their grasp. I tried to scream, but I still couldn't breathe.

So this is how my life would end...I would be strangled to death and one of my best friends was going to be decapitated.

My hands reached up to try and pry Olaf's hands off, when suddenly, he was knocked back by some unknown force. My hands rested on my neck as I tried to catch my breath.

The hook handed man and the bald man had Violet pinned down, the bald man holding a syringe full of some kind of clear liquid to inject into Violet's arm. It reminded me of the stuff Olaf injected into Jacques Snicket that killed him. No. Not Violet too. This set me off and it was as if I wasn't in control of myself when I leapt onto the bald man's back, trying to pull him away. My mind was only on that syringe, knowing it couldn't go near Violet. I may have been too weak to save Jacques, but this time I wouldn't be. He kept trying to shake me off, making me hold on for dear life. I didn't realize how tight my arms were around his neck until I felt a pair of hands trying to yank me off. Olaf had recovered and after two sharp tugs, I was forced to let go.

I screamed and kicked as he dragged me away from Violet, and through a door that led to a room similar to the other one, but it was smaller and there were no curtains around the single hospital bed in the center of the room. Olaf didn't hesitate to throw me inside, slamming the door shut as he did. A soft click told me that it was locked but that didn't stop me from trying to open it. After having no luck at all I gave up. Frustrated, I kicked the door hard and then, sank to the floor, feeling despair settling over me. What was I going to do? Violet was about to be killed and I was locked in a small, cramped room. My face fell into my hands and I couldn't contain myself from crying.

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><p>About an hour passed before I heard footsteps. I finally willed myself to move off the ground in time for the door to open as the bald man entered, holding something concealed behind his back.<p>

"Hello, _Blondie_," he said in his low, mocking voice that always gave me goose bumps. I don't know why I was scared of him the most, I always figured the hookhanded man was the scariest until I realized, while the hookhanded man had hooks, the bald man didn't need any to be menacing—only his dark, beady eyes and his low, creepy voice. He was grinning disturbingly as if he were up to something and I felt myself go pale when he locked the door behind him with a silver key. Meaning I was stuck in this room with someone who probably wanted to kill me or worse.

"Mattathias ordered me to come in here," he explained when he faced me again, "said how ya couldn't be trusted during the operation." He revealed the long syringe he had been hiding behind his back. It was filled with the same stuff they put in Violet. "So there's been a slight change of plans. He figures ya need a good dose of anesthesia to knock ya out good for the duration. I can't say that I disagree."

"Well, you can tell Mattathias that I'm not having anything put in me," I said, crossing my arms.

The bald man gave me a slow smile that made him look almost as scary as Olaf did when his eyes were shining. "I only take orders from Mattathias, not a stupid orphan brat," he sneered, "and I was told specifically to get this in ya whether ya like it or not."

I took a step back and found myself backing right into a wall. The bald man didn't come after me though, instead, he placed the syringe on the counter near the door.

"But first," he started, spinning to see me looking scared to death against the wall, "I have something else in mind. Something that should've been done a long time ago." He took a few steps toward me.

I gulped. "Are you going to kill me?" I asked, my voice shaking and squeaky.

"Do ya think I'm stupid?" he sneered, "Mattathias would kill me." He moved closer and feeling very uncomfortable, I slowly moved to the side, "I won't kill ya," he continued, "Yet. But there are worse things than death."

At that moment, everything happened so fast. As he finished speaking, I began to run for the door, but the bald man noticed and his hands caught me by my hair. He yanked me back, shoving me hard against the wall and then his filthy hands were gripping my arms tightly, pinning me to the wall as his body pressed against mine so that there was no escape.

He leaned close to me so I could smell his nasty, hot breath. Then, in a quick move, he closed the distance until his lips hungrily crashed onto mine. I squirmed; his chin was prickly and he smelled like alcohol, cigars, and something else that I couldn't place. I jerked and squealed, but he kept pawing at me, kissing my throat, my neck, and my lips again. All I knew was that I had to get out of here and there was only one way to do that. Something I'd learned about a long time ago but never thought I would have to use it until now.

My knee thrust upwards hitting him directly in the spot I was aiming for. He let go of my arms, doubling over as he clutched the spot where I had caused him brutal pain. He was off of me though, and I hurried over to the door, only to find that it was, of course, still locked.

The bald man had recovered enough to stand and he scowled at me. "You're not getting away that easy," he snarled, "the door is locked and only I have the key to unlock it."

He came at me again; his coarse hands forced me backwards, causing me to fall onto the hard floor near the door. The bald man put himself on top of me, so now I was even more trapped by his crushing weight and this time, I couldn't do any damage.

I tried to turn my head away, but his mouth still managed to smash down on mine. I cringed and kept struggling against his wet lips that moved against mine. I shuddered. Soon, he got bored and bit my lip, forcing my lips to part so I could now taste the wine and tuna fish sandwich he had apparently eaten for lunch. It was bitter and rough and though I had nothing to compare it to, I could tell this was not the way it was supposed to feel like. I shuddered again. I didn't know what to do and my head was too clouded with fear to think of an escape. I was trapped. Just like Violet and soon Klaus and Sunny would be too. Tears leaked from my eyes, trailing down my cheeks.

The bald man's rough hands were moving to the bottom of my hospital gown, his fingers dancing on my bare thigh, making me twitch with revulsion, and I knew what he would do next. I screamed and wriggled, but he shoved a cloth into my mouth so no sound came out. I looked desperately for anything that could save me from this dreadful fate. I looked up to see the syringe containing that lucid material was rolling off of the counter. I watched it reach the edge and lose its balance, toppling off to hit the floor beside me.

I could feel his hands beginning to remove the gown. He made a horrible grunting sound, as he pressed harder against me. I knew this was my only chance. I reached as far as my arm could stretch and grabbed hold of the syringe. My muscles functioned before my mind could process what I was doing and I thrust the syringe into his shoulder, pushing down the plunger to inject the substance into him. At first I thought nothing happened, but after only a moment, the bald man lay unconscious, his heavy body still crushing mine.

I shoved him off of me and got to my feet. I was shaking all over and I wasn't sure if I would ever stop this time. I felt woozy and ill and grimy and frightened. I could've just killed the bald man for all I knew.

I found the keys, which was a task that seemed to take forever because my trembling hands kept dropping them whenever I tried to pull them from the bald man's pocket. Not to mention how long it took to keep the room from spinning long enough to find the right key and open the door to where more danger awaited.

The hookhanded man was at the hospital bed that Violet's limp body was lying on. Her legs were intertwined like vines and her mouth was slightly agape. The hookhanded man glanced up immediately when I entered.

"What are you doing out of that room?" He growled, "Didn't Dr. Flucatono give you the anesthesia?"

I didn't say anything or move; I was paralyzed by fear of what just happened and what I knew would happen when the hookhanded man realized what I did. As if he could read my mind, the hookhanded man looked behind me, and saw the bald man's unconscious body. His eyes grew cold, making me shiver.

"Why you little brat!" he roared, he headed right for me. Not this again. Not anymore of this.

I ducked as the hookhanded man swung his hook at my face, but it didn't stop the hook from grazing my left arm. Blood was already spewing from the cut and i gasped in pain, clutching the wound. The hookhanded man laughed mockingly and I got down on my hands and knees to crawl past him before he could swing again. I reached the hospital bed where Violet lay and attempted to grab her.

"Get away from there!" he growled, as he took another swing and I was forced to move away from Violet to avoid being scraped again, "Next I'll ruin that pretty face of yours." I needed to get out of here and save Violet in some other way that wouldn't cause her or myself to be skewered by the hookhanded man's razor-sharp hooks. Evading the swings of the hookhanded man's hooks, I hurried for the door that I believed was the exit. As I reached it, the hookhanded man did too and his hook swung for my head again, causing me to duck once more. There was a thud and I looked up to see one of his hooks had gotten stuck in the wall beside the door.

I wasted no more time and left the hospital room, hoping to never go back again, except to rescue Violet of course.

"Get back here, orphan!" the hookhanded man roared as he struggled to release himself.

I ignored him and ran down the hall, away from the hospital room. I knew it wouldn't be long before the hookhanded man unattached his hook from the wall to alert Mattathias that I escaped again. That was all I needed. What I did need, was help. The scratch on my arm stung and blood still leaked from the wound, making my head spin. I kept running, though I had no idea where to go. All I knew was that the farther I ran, the farther I would be from everything that was so horribly wrong in the world. I might've run forever, never stopping, just as long as all the horrors were behind me. But as I raced past a few hospital rooms, I felt a pair of hands snatch me, dragging me quickly into another room.

I looked up with fearful, wide eyes. Could it be another one of Olaf's associates? The room was dark due to the blinds on the windows being shut as if whoever it was was hiding from someone, but despite the dim light, I could see the man's sandy hair and dark eyes. I stared in utter surprise and felt a sense of relief that someone I could rely on was here, and just maybe Violet could be rescued.

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it despite the bad parts which was pretty much the whole chapter but it is 'a series of unfortunate events' so yeah... Review! :)<strong>


	31. Disguises

**First, thanks to everyone who's reviewing my story :) and second, new chapter! ENJOY!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Disguises<strong>

"Lemony!" I cried, launching myself into his arms, "Oh, thank goodness it's you. I was so worried you were one of Olaf's associates because they're after me at the moment. The bald man especially," I shuddered, "they're all probably coming. I need your help. Immediately. Olaf's going to have his associates operate on Violet's brain but what he's really doing is killing her. If I don't stop them and get Violet out of Olaf's clutches, she'll be dead before noon." Before I could stop myself, I was sobbing uncontrollably.

"There, there," Lemony said, patting my back. I glanced up at Lemony Snicket to see him trying to hide how overwhelmed he was by my weeping. Obviously he wasn't used to crying children. I stepped back and wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands, feeling embarrassed.

"I-I'm s-sorry," I said when more tears came pouring down my cheeks, "I-I just…"

"I understand," he said and his somber expression told me he was sincere. "And I assure you, I'll try to help in any way I can." Lemony's eyes fell to my arm where the cut still bled and he frowned. "What happened to your arm?"

"The hook-handed man…" I said, trailing off as more sobs escaped, "…he swung at me…"

"Well, I'm glad you got away," Lemony said. "I guess it's a good thing we're in a hospital, though it's not a very safe one. Speaking of which, call me Monty Kensicle instead."

I nodded, then something crossed my mind. "Is Monty Kensicle an anagram for your real name?"

"Yes it is," Monty said, nodding his head. "Why do you ask?"

I bit my lip as I tried to think of a good way to explain it.

"I'm not Jane Rumary," I whispered, dropping my gaze to the floor.

I expected Monty to be surprised, but when he spoke, his voice was calm and full of understanding. "I know," he sighed.

Instead, I was the one who uttered a gasp. "Y-you already know that my name is really Jamie Murray? H-how? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, you look so much like your mother," Monty said, "and Jacques, my brother, was the one who realized it. But it was much too dangerous for you. Count Olaf can't know who you are. Neither can his associates, especially that awful girlfriend of his."

"Well, it's too late," I said, "they already know. I went looking for the file about my parents and it led me to finding the Murray file."

"Do you still have it?" Monty asked.

I shook my head and lowered it, ashamed. "Count Olaf found me there and took it and then he told Esmé all about it. She's my aunt right?"

Monty nodded. "This isn't good at all," he said. "If it really is in Olaf's possession, he'll destroy it."

"And then I'll never know anything about them," I said, miserably, "Something tells me that my mother's death at least wasn't an accident and somehow I survived. It's all so confusing and no one will tell me anything about my parents. Though, Jacques did tell me a little bit about them when we were trapped in that jailhouse. By the way, I'm sorry for your loss, I can't imagine how you must be feeling. I only just met Jacques and found out he was my godfather…you've known him you're whole life."

Monty nodded; looking deeply saddened, but didn't speak. A lump rose in my throat and anger filled me. I couldn't stand that Olaf had gotten away with such a horrible thing, especially since I was unable to save him. It made me angry at myself and Count Olaf. I just wished I could do something to get back at him. I quickly brushed that thought away, I knew revenge was not answer, nor was vengeance. I knew what I really wanted most, was justice.

But for the moment, justice wasn't in my grasp and I had to focus on stopping Olaf from murdering someone else I cared about.

"We need to help Violet before Olaf kills her," I said, wiping my eyes again.

Monty nodded and shook his head, trying to hide that he was upset. "We will but first, let me have a look at your arm and I'll see what I can do."

Monty Kensicle guided me over to the hospital bed in the center and had me sit while he searched through the drawers and counters along the wall for something to help stop the bleeding. Finally, Monty found a container full of bandages and a bottle of some kind of medicine.

"I believe this will stop the bleeding," Monty said, "fortunately, it doesn't look too deep."

Monty had me take the medicine, which tasted disgusting but my arm was hurting so much that I didn't care. As Monty moved to wrap the bandage around my cut, I found I couldn't stop myself from asking, "What are you doing here?"

"I've been looking for something," Monty said.

"It's not the Baudelaire file, is it?" I asked.

"How do you know about that?" Monty asked.

"Olaf," was all I said and Monty's eyes widened. "He's looking for it."

Monty's eyes widened. "He knows about it?" he asked, "That's not good either. Has he gone to the Library of Records yet?"

"Not him," I said, "Esmé, but the Baudelaires and I got there first. We found the file but all of the documents are in the hands of the police. All we found was the thirteenth page."

I continued to explain about how Esmé showed up and started knocking down those file cabinets. Then, I told him what happened when I woke up, leaving out the part about the bald man, up until now.

"So I really need your help," I said, tears beginning to fill my eyes again, "I'm scared and I don't know if I can save Violet alone."

"And as I said," Monty said, "I will certainly help you as best as I can. There," Monty took some sort of clip to hold the bandage together. Now my upper arm was covered with the white bandage, which would hopefully stop the bleeding.

"So what do we do?" I said, feeling too anxious to wait any longer. "How can we save Violet?"

"Well," Monty began, "from what I've heard from the announcements, she's being operated on in an operating theater. You said that they gave her an anesthetic already, correct?"

I nodded, shuddering at the thought.

"Well, from what I know about anesthesia, it's that it wears off after a few hours," he said, "about how long would you say it has been?"

"About an hour and a half," I said, "how long does it take to go away?"

"I can't tell, but it should wear off within the next hour or so," Monty said, "They can't operate if the patient is awake and if she's recognized, that'll cause quite a bit of a problem."

"So what do you suggest we do?" I asked.

"What I'm thinking, is that the best way to stop the operation would be to stall it," Monty said, "the longer we can stall it, there's a chance Violet will wake up."

"But how can either of us stall it?" I said, "Olaf's associates would recognize us immediately."

"Well, of course they'll recognize you," Monty said, "Unless you're in a disguise."

My eyes widened. "So I have to wear a disguise? But where will I get one, besides in Olaf's trunk?"

"We may have to improvise," he said, "aren't there medical coats in the supply closets?"

"You think I should disguise myself as a doctor?" I said, "But I don't look like a doctor, I'm far too short. Someone will recognize me for sure."

"Well, so far that's the only disguise I can come up with," Monty said, "my disguise kit was stolen and we don't have time to search for a solution. We'll just have to make it work."

"What about you?" I asked. "What will you be doing?"

Monty sighed. "Unfortunately, I won't be able to come with you. If what you said is true about Count Olaf learning about the whereabouts of the Baudelaire file and the fact that he has possession of the Murray file, I have some very important things to take care of. We only have so much time. But don't worry, I know your acting skills will most certainly help you and I trust you'll know what to do."

"Me?" I said, "That's where you're wrong. I may be interested in acting and sort of good at it, but I'm not good at stalling. What should I do?"

Before Monty could respond, he was interrupted by Mattatthias's scratchy voice on the speakers.

"Attention! Attention!" He called, sounding especially unpleasant. "The Surgical Ward will now be closed for the cranioectomy. Only Dr. Flacutono and his associates will be allowed into the ward until the patient is dead—I mean, until the operation is over. That is all."

I glanced at Monty, feeling suddenly nauseous and deeply in despair.

"I know," Monty said, "which is why we have to go now before it's too late. Come, we'll find a supply closet and put your disguise on, but that's all I can help you with—well I will still be helping you—I just can't go with you."

I nodded, though I was still nervous about doing this by myself. I just had to remember who I was doing it for. I wasn't about to let Olaf get away with hurting my friend and I swore I would do everything I could to get Violet out of it. I would just have to improvise a way to stall and hope that no one sees through my disguise.

Monty led me out into the hall after checking to see if it was clear and we left the Surgical Ward. After turning down multiple hallways, we found a supply closet. All we could find inside was a medical coat and a surgical mask so when it was on and Monty stepped back to look at it, I could tell by his expression that it wasn't fooling him one bit. The medical coat was huge on me, and the surgical mask didn't do much to hide my long, blonde hair. I decided to wear my hair up, using one of the rubber bands to put it in a messy bun. Monty found a medical cap too, so I put that over my head, covering my hair completely. Of course, it was made for a doctor with a larger head so it practically covered my eyes.

"I still don't look like a doctor, do I?" I said, grimacing as I looked down at the oversized medical coat and adjusted the sleeves that were covering my hands completely.

"It could be better, but it'll have to do," Monty said, frowning. He paused for a moment. "There's something else I have to give you. In case something goes wrong and you need to make a fast get away." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tube filled with some kind of black powder. The tube was plugged and Monty handed it to me to stick in my pocket.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I'm not sure what it's called," Monty replied, "an associate of mine gave it to me, but she told me that it makes the room go instantly dark for a few minutes. This is just in case someone does see through your disguise and you need to get away."

"Thanks," I said.

We were both silent for a moment and I knew it was time to part.

"You should get going," Monty said.

I nodded and peered into the hallway.

"It's clear," I whispered back. We stepped out into the hallway.

"Well, good luck," Monty said, "remember what I told you."

"Good bye," I said. Monty did a small wave and headed down the hall, pulling the brim of his hat over his eyes.

I watched him until he turned the corner and disappeared. Taking a deep breath, I turned to go the opposite direction and stopped when I caught the sight of two very familiar people standing just a little ways down the hall.

Someone with dark hair, wearing a medical coat that looked too big, and a surgical mask that covered his mouth and nose. Beside him was another person who was particularly short, also wearing an oversized medical coat and a surgical mask. At first they startled me, but the taller one looked over his shoulder and our eyes met, soft turquoise to warm brown.

"Klaus!" I cried, and then, stopped myself when I realized I should probably keep it down. "Sunny." I hurried over to them. "What are you two doing here?"

I squeezed Klaus and Sunny in a giant hug.

"We came to rescue you and Violet, of course," Klaus said, when we broke apart. "I'm so glad you're safe. How did you escape?"

I grimaced. "It's a long story," I replied, "but since we're all on the same page, I guess we should rescue her together. I was about to sneak into the Surgical Ward as a doctor and it looks like you were about to do the same thing."

Klaus nodded. "But we haven't any idea how we're going to save her," he said, looking panic-stricken. "We barely look like doctors. They'll recognize us for sure."

I reached to pat his shoulder. "Don't worry," I said, trying to hide how worried I was, "we'll find a way, I promise."

Klaus still looked worried, but he nodded.

"Well, do you see any surgeons?" I asked, searching among the crowds of people moving to and fro. But none of them looked like surgeons.

"I don't see any," Klaus said.

"Peipix," Sunny said, meaning "Me neither."

"Well, there's got to be—"

"Out of my way, everybody!" demanded a voice coming from the end of the hallway. "I'm a surgical assistant, carrying equipment for Dr. Flacutono!"

The employees cleared the way for a tall person wearing a white lab coat and surgical mask, who was stepping down the hallway. The person had weird, tottering steps that sounded all too familiar.

"I've got to get to the Surgical Ward immediately!" the person called walking past us without even looking. I noticed the tottering came from very skinny stilettos and in one hand, the person held a handbag that was in the shape of an eye. As I glanced up, I saw this person was also wearing a black veil attached to a hat.

Everyone was fooled by this person's attempt at disguising as a surgical assistant, but Klaus, Sunny, and I could see through the disguise probably as much as she would see through ours when she notices us. By she, I mean Esmé Squalor, Count Olaf's girlfriend and supposedly my aunt.

But as I gazed at the fake surgical assistant, my attention was turned to what she was carrying. It was a knife, of course. A rusty, long, and jagged knife that you usually only see in horror movies. But this wasn't a horror movie that you could just turn off or fast forward when there's a really scary part. This was real life, and soon that knife would be used to kill my friend if I didn't stop it.

As I watched Esmé pass by, I knew this was our only chance. So I stepped forward and tried to suppress my fear as I spoke.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I said. I was trying to sound like I really was a doctor who had gone to medical school, but butterflies swarmed my stomach as Esmé paused to glance down at me with narrowed eyes. "Did I hear you say you were an associate of Dr. Flacutono?"

Esmé looked impatient as she answered, "If you're someone with a hearing problem, don't bother me. Go to the Ear Ward."

"I'm not someone with a hearing problem," I said.

"Well, I don't have time for you," Esmé said, rudely, "I have to deliver this surgical tool to Dr. Flacutono so the operation can be performed." She began to leave.

"Wait," I said, hurrying to catch up, "we're all associates of Dr. Flacutono too."

Esmé stopped and looked down at us, skeptically at first and then, with realization.

"I was just wondering where you were," she said, "Dr. Tocuna and Nurse Flo, correct?" She was looking from me to Klaus.

I nodded. "It's us," I said.

"But who's this?" Esmé asked, looking at Sunny. "She's not an associate of Dr. Flacutono."

"Not until recently," I answered quickly, "This is our…long lost…sister, Nurse Surry…she's decided to join us."

"Isn't that marvelous?" Esmé said, though she didn't sound as if she thought it was that marvelous at all. "But Mattathias said you wouldn't be taking part in the operation because you got concussions from that bratty blonde orphan who is unfortunately my niece, I at least expected her to be more fashionable."

There was silence when I was at a loss of what to say. Luckily, Klaus jumped in for me.

"Actually, they just let us go," he said, "So we came to help."

Esmé nodded. "Well, come with me, and I'll take you to the patient."

"Patsy," Sunny said. Esmé glanced at Sunny and I glanced at Klaus with worried eyes.

"What she is saying," Klaus said, trying to recover, "is that we're very concerned about Laura V. Bleediotie."

"Well, you won't be concerned for long," Esmé replied as she led us around a corner to another hallway. "Here, you carry the knife."

She gave Klaus the rusty knife and then, leaned in close to talk with him. "I'm glad you two are here," she whispered, "The brat's little brother and sister haven't been captured yet, the blonde brat has escaped yet again, and we still don't have the file on the Snicket fires. The authorities removed it for investigation. The boss says we might have to torch the place."

"Torch?" Sunny asked.

"Mattathias will take care of that part," Esmé said, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "All you have to do is assist with the surgery. Let's hurry up."

Esmé hurried up a staircase and we followed behind. I glanced nervously at Klaus, who still clutched the rusty, sharp knife. He looked back at me, fretfully and I know he's worried that Esmé will see through our disguises, I was worried too. What if she suddenly realizes that we're just impostors?

We reached the door marked "Surgical Ward" which was being guarded by the enormous person who looked like neither a man nor a woman. He was wearing a coat that read "Heimlich Hospital" and his cap said, "GUARD" in big black print. I wonder why I hadn't seen him earlier.

He gazed at us and I hoped he didn't realize we were three children, rather than associates of Count Olaf. But he just nodded and opened the door.

"They've already anesthetized the bratty orphan," Esmé said, "so you ladies merely need to go to her room and bring her to the operating theater. I'm going to try to find that sniveling bookworm, that stupid baby with oversized teeth, and that tone-deaf, unfashionable, disgraceful blonde who thinks she's my niece. Mattathias says I get to choose which one of the Baudelaire brats to keep alive in order to force Mr. Poe to give us the fortune, and which one I get to rip to shreds."

"Good," I said, trying to sound more like a villain, "I'm so tired of chasing those kids around."

"Me too," Esmé said, and the enormous assistant nodded in agreement. "But I'm sure this will be the last time. Once we've destroyed the file, nobody can accuse us of any crimes, and once we murder the orphans, the fortune will be ours. Both of them. I think that blonde orphan's fortune rightfully belongs to me, anyway."

Esmé looked around to make sure no one was listening and then, she laughed wickedly in triumph. So did the Olaf's enormous associate and Klaus, Sunny, and I tried making sounds like we were laughing too. I tried the best evil laugh I could muster without over exaggerating it. I wasn't in the mood for laughing, especially after the terrible things Esmé said—not that I wasn't used to how terrible Olaf's associates acted—but all the same, it disgusted me. I was relieved when the laughter stopped and we were ushered into the Surgical Ward.

"I'll leave you ladies in the hands of our associates," she said, and shut the door behind us.

We found ourselves facing the hook handed man and the bald man. I shuddered and found more butterflies swarming in my stomach, especially when I saw a patch of white on the bald man's shoulder where I stabbed him with the needle. I wondered how the anesthetic wore off so quickly. Maybe I hadn't pushed the plunger down enough.

"Well, hello there," the hook handed man said. I was so nervous, that my palms were sweating and I wondered if they were clever enough to see through our disguises.

"I can see through your disguise," the hook handed man continued, and placed one of his fake hands on my shoulder. I suppressed a shudder and felt my cut starting to sting.

"Me, too," the bald man said, "but I don't think anyone else will. I don't know how you ladies managed to do it, but you look much shorter in those white coats."

"And your faces don't look as pale in those surgical masks," the hook handed man agreed. "These are the best disguises Olaf—I mean _Mattathias_—has ever cooked up." Then, his gaze found Sunny and his eyebrows furrowed. "Who's this?"

"That's Nurse Surry," I said, quickly, "she's our long lost sister and she's joining us as of a few moments ago."

"Welcome," the hook handed man said, "it's always exciting when we have new members."

"But we don't have time for all this talking," I said and Klaus nodded.

"We've got to get to Room 922 right away," Klaus added.

"You're right, of course," the hook-handed man said. "Follow us."

They began to walk down the hall and we exchanged relieved glances.

"Gwit," Sunny murmured, which meant, "They didn't recognize us either."

"I know," Klaus replied in a low voice, "they think we're two powder-faced women, disguised as associates of Dr. Flacutono, and they think Sunny's our long lost sister. That was a good recovery by the way."

"Thanks," I said, "I can't believe they bought that, though."

"Stop all that whispering about disguises," the bald man said, "If anyone hears you, it'll be the end of us."

"Instead of the end of Laura V. Bleediotie," the hook-handed man said with a sneer. "I've been waiting to get hooks on her since she escaped from marrying Mattathias. I got the blonde brat good, but she escaped."

"If only it was her that we got to operate on," the bald man said, "I'd like to slit her throat with that knife. But unfortunately, there's only one of her so we can't kill her yet."

"And Mattathias specifically told us that he would be the one to kill her," the hook-handed man added.

I shuddered under their fierce gazes. The bald man's beady eyes seemed to almost penetrate me, and I began to fret that he would see how terrified I was and recognize me.

"Trapped," Sunny said, sneering as best as she could.

"Trapped is right," the bald man said, "I'm starting to like this new associate. I already gave her the anesthetic, so she's unconscious. All we have to do is lead her to the operating theater, and you can saw her head off."

"I still don't understand why we have to murder her in front of all those doctors," the hook-handed man said.

"So it can look like an accident, you idiot," the bald man snarled.

"I'm not an idiot," the hook-handed man said, glaring at the bald man. "I'm physically handicapped."

"Just because you're physically handicapped doesn't mean you're mentally clever," the bald man said.

"And just because you're wearing an ugly wig," the hook-handed man said, "doesn't mean you can insult me."

"Stop all this arguing!" Klaus said. "The sooner we can operate on Laura V. Bleediotie, the sooner we'll all be rich."

"Yes," I agreed, "if we waste time, she'll wake up before any operation can be performed. I don't think the doctors would be happy if we operated on a patient that's awake."

"Yes!" Sunny said.

The two villains nodded at each other sheepishly. "The ladies are right," the hook-handed man said. "We shouldn't behave unprofessionally, just because it's been a very stressful time at work."

"I know," the bald man said, sighing, "It seems like we've been following these four orphans forever, only to have them slip out of our grasp at the last minute. Let's just focus on getting the job done, and work out our personal problems later. Well, here we are."

We reached the door to the hospital room where Violet was staying in and the bald man unlocked the door with the key. I realized I must have dropped them while escaping from the hook handed man earlier. I didn't want to be back in this room after what happened last time, but I knew there was no other way to save her. I would just have to be brave for Violet. She was always so brave when it came to protecting us. I owed her a lot.

"Here she is," the bald man said, "our little sleeping beauty."

The door opened with a creak and I was facing the dreadful room with all those white curtains. One of the white curtains was pulled back so we could see Violet still lying on the gurney, which was stained with rust. She was in worse condition than before and she looked truly dreadful under those ripped, soiled sheets. Her legs were twisted together still and her hair had been placed messily over her eyes again. Her face was still a ghostly pale and I felt myself on the verge of tears. I glanced at Klaus and Sunny and could see from their horrified expressions that they were very near weeping too.

"She's a pretty one," the hook-handed man said, "even when she's unconscious."

"She's clever too," the bald man said, "although her clever little brain won't do her good when her head has been sawed off."

His words filled me with anger and Klaus grabbed my arm, to hold me back from giving us away. I sighed, and calmed myself down until Klaus let go.

"Let's hurry up and go to the operating theater," the hook-handed man said and he started to move the gurney out of the room. "Mattathias said the anesthetic would last for only a little while, so we'd best start the cranioectomy."

"I wouldn't mind if she woke up in the middle of it," the bald man said and laughed cruelly, "but I suppose that would ruin the plan. You ladies take the head end. I don't like to look at her when she's frowning like that."

"And don't forget the knife," the hook-handed man said, "Dr. Flacutono and I will be supervising, but you three will actually perform the operation."

We nodded, I was afraid to speak because they might sense how anxious I was and become suspicious. I wished I could gently shake Violet and hope it would wake her up before the real nightmare began. But I knew one gesture of affection or urgency would give us away. So we just walked alongside the gurney, Klaus clutching the rusty knife, as the two terrifying villains led the way out of Room 922. I watched Violet carefully, hoping to see a sign that she was waking up and that the anesthesia had finally worn off. For a moment I thought about using that black powder stuff to slip away and turn off these horrors before they could start. But this wasn't a nightmare I could wake from. I learned that the day Count Olaf showed up at Uncle Monty's house. The day my life turned and led me to this dreadful moment. But despite my fear and the fact that I still hadn't come up with a plan to stop the operation, I was determined to save Violet. Count Olaf had killed so many people I cared about, but I wasn't about to let him take away the only family I had in this big, scary world. I thought about how upset Lemony had looked at losing his brother, how much pain Jacques must have endured, and my own guilt that always seemed to wash over me like a wave. Count Olaf may have gotten away with this foul crime, but this time would be different. I wasn't going to let anything happen to Violet, Klaus, or Sunny, even if it meant risking my own life. I owed them too much. So as we reached the door marked "Operating Theater" I took a deep breath and searched for the strength I would need, hoping it would be enough.

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it! I had a long weekend so i was able to get the next few chapters done too! :) They'll be up as soon as i finish editing them.<strong>

**Review!**


	32. The Cranioectomy

**Here's a new chapter! :) ENJOY!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine: The Cranioectomy<strong>

The operating theater was surprisingly filled with people ranging from doctors, nurses, a large group that held balloons and had a sign that said 'Volunteers Fighting Disease', and other people who seemed to have just wandered in to see what was playing.

We wheeled the gurney onto a small stage and when the light of the chandelier touched us, the crowd of people cheered. This only made me feel more anxious and I watched as Olaf's two associates paused to bow for the audience.

"Thank you very much!" the hook-handed man cried. "Doctors, nurses, Volunteers Fighting Disease, reporters from _The Daily Punctilio_, distinguished guests, and regular people, welcome to the operating theater at Heimlich Hospital. I am Dr. O. Lucafont, and I will be your medical host for today's performance."

"Hooray for Dr. Lucafont!" a doctor cried over the applause and the hook-handed man took another bow.

"And I am Dr. Flacutono," the bald man announced, looking envious of all the applause the hook-handed man was receiving. "I am the surgeon who invented the cranioectomy, and I am thrilled to operate today in front of all you wonderful and attractive people."

"Hooray for Dr. Flacutono!" a nurse cried and there was more applause as the bald man bowed and clutched the gross wig he wore to his head.

"The surgeon is right!" the hook-handed man said. "You are wonderful and attractive, all of you! Go on, give yourselves a big hand!"

"Hooray for us!" a volunteer shouted and the crowd cheered.

"Now, the three ladies you see are three associates of mine named Dr. Tocuna, Nurse Flo, and Nurse Surry," the bald man continued, "Why don't you give them the same wonderful welcome you gave us?"

At first, I thought the crowd would notice we were just three children, two accused of murder, and one who was supposed to be dead, but the crowd only cheered more. We waved half-heartedly at the crowd and I felt my butterflies getting even worse.

"And now that you've met all of our fantastic performers," the hook-handed man said, "let the show begin. Dr. Flacutono, are you ready to begin?"

"I sure am," the bald man said. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, as I'm sure you know, a cranioectomy is a procedure in which the patient's head is removed. Scientists have discovered that many health problems are rooted in the brain, so that the best thing to do with a sick patient is remove it. However, a cranioectomy is as dangerous as it is necessary. There is a chance that Laura V. Bleediotie might die while the operation is being performed, but sometimes one must risk accidents in order to cure illness."

I wanted to tell everyone how ridiculous this operation was and although I wasn't a real medical doctor, I knew that being sick had nothing to do with your brain, unless it was cancer or something. I waited hopeful that one of the medical professionals in the audience would realize that this is the first cranioectomy ever, because it doesn't work. But the doctors and nurses sat, looking intrigued by Dr. Flacutono's explanation.

"A patient's death would certainly be a terrible accident, Dr. Flacutono," the hook-handed man said.

"It sure would, Dr. O. Lucafont," Dr. Flacutono agreed, "That's why I'm going to have my associates perform the surgery, while I supervise. Dr. Tocuna, Nurse Flo, and Nurse Surry, you may begin."

There was more applause and Olaf's associates bowed some more, as the three of us exchanged horrified glances.

"What can we do?" Klaus whispered to us, gazing out at the crowd. "We're surrounded by people who expect us to saw Violet's head off."

I looked at the knife in Klaus's hands, and then at Klaus. My hands felt at the lump in my pocket that was the black powder and then, I remembered.

"We'll have to stall them," I said, "if w e can stall long enough, Violet will wake up and the plan will be ruined."

Sunny nodded in agreement and Klaus swallowed. "Okay."

I could see Klaus concentrating on how to stall, and I hoped all his reading will pay off. None of my ideas of stalling would work in this situation.

"Before I make the first incision," Klaus began, "I think Nurse Flo, Nurse Surry, and I should talk a little bit about the equipment we're using."

I glanced at Klaus, puzzled, but since I didn't have any other ideas, I asked, "You mean the knife?"

"That's right," Klaus said. "It's a knife and—"

"We all know it's a knife, Dr. Tocuna," said the hook-handed man, glancing at the audience and smiling. The bald man leaned in to whisper to Klaus.

"What are you doing?" he growled. "Just saw off the brat's head and we'll be done."

"A real doctor would never perform a new operation without explaining everything," Klaus whispered back. "We have to keep talking, or we'll never fool them."

The villains looked from Klaus to me and then, at Sunny. For a moment, we got ready to run, my fingers inching inside my pocket for the dark powder. But after a slight pause, the two associates looked at each other and nodded.

"I suppose you're right," the hook-handed man said, and then turned to address the audience. "Sorry for the delay, folks. As you know, we're real doctors, so that's why we're explaining everything. Carry on, Dr. Tocuna."

"The cranioectomy will be performed with a knife," Klaus continued, "which is the oldest surgical tool in the world." I couldn't keep myself from grinning as Klaus explained it all. I loved that he seemed to know everything and right now, it would probably help us stall long enough for Violet to wake up. "Early knives have been found in Egyptian tombs and Mayan temples, where they were used for ceremonial purposes, and mostly fashioned out of stone. Gradually bronze and iron became essential materials in knives, although some cultures fashioned them out of the incisors of slain animals."

"Teeth," Sunny explained.

"There are a number of different types of knives," Klaus continued, "including the pocket knife, the penknife, and the drawing knife, but the one required for this cranioectomy is a Bowie knife, named after Colonel James Bowie, who lived in Texas."

"Wasn't that a magnificent explanation, ladies and gentlemen?" the hook-handed man said.

"It sure was," one of the reporters, a woman wearing a gray suit and chewing gum, agreed. I noticed she was speaking into a small microphone. "I can see the headline now: 'DOCTOR AND NURSES EXPLAIN HISTORY OF KNIFE.' Wait until the readers of _The Daily Punctilio_ see that!"

The audience applauded in agreement. Violet moved on the gurney slightly, her mouth opening wider. One of her limp hands stirred for a brief second. Only Klaus, Sunny, and I noticed and we looked at each other hopefully.

"Enough talk," the bald man hissed to us, "It's lots of fun fooling innocent people, but we'd better get on with the operation before the orphan wakes up."

"Before I make the first incision," Klaus said, as if the bald man hadn't spoken. "I would like to say a few words concerning rust." He paused for a moment, "Rust is a reddish-brown coating that forms on certain metals when they oxidize, which is a scientific term for a chemical reaction occurring when iron or steel comes into contact with moisture." He held up the rusty knife for the audience to see. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Violet's hand move again, only briefly. "The oxidation process is integral to a cranioectomy due to the oxidative processes of the cellular mitochondria and cosmetic demystification." I would have to ask Klaus later, if we were able to rescue Violet, what all those big, complicated words he used mean.

"Clap!" Sunny cried, and the audience cheered once more.

"Very impressive," the bald man said, as he glowered at Klaus. "But I think these lovely people will understand the process better once the head has actually been removed."

"Of course," Klaus replied. "But first, we need to tenderize the vertebrae, so we can make a clean cut. Nurse Surry, will you please nibble of Viol—I mean, Laura V. Bleediotie's neck?"

"Yes," Sunny said, smiling. She stood on her tiptoes and gave Violet a few small nibbles on the neck, hoping to wake her up. Violet twitched, and shut her mouth, but nothing else happened.

"What are you doing?" the hook-handed man demanded in an angry whisper. "Perform the operation at once, or Mattathias will be furious!"

"Isn't Nurse Surry wonderful?" Klaus asked the audience, but not many people were clapping anymore.

"I believe you've bitten her neck enough," the bald man said. He was looking at us suspiciously. "Let's get on with the cranioectomy."

Klaus nodded and clasped the knife in both hands as he held it up over Violet. His hands trembled in fear and glanced at me with wide eyes.

Finally, he spoke, his gaze still on me. "I can't do it," it came out in a whisper. He looked up at the ceiling and then, announced. "I can't do it." The audience gasped and I looked at Klaus, quizzically.

"Why not?" the hook-handed man asked quietly, pointing his gloved hook at Klaus. I felt myself preparing to step in front of Klaus in case the hook-handed man tried to swing at him.

Klaus swallowed. "Before I make the first incision, there's one more thing that has to be done—the most important thing we do here at Heimlich Hospital."

"And what is that?" the bald man asked, frowning.

I looked at Klaus, initially confused, until I realized exactly what he meant.

"Paperwork!" Sunny and I said simultaneously. The audience began to clap once more.

"Hooray!" called a member of V.F.D. "Hooray for paperwork!"

Olaf's associates looked irritated, but we were relieved.

"Hooray for paper work indeed!" I cried. "We can't operate on a patient until her file is absolutely complete!"

"I can't believe we forgot about it, even for a moment!" a nurse cried. "Paperwork is the most important thing we do at this hospital!"

"I can see the headline now," the reporter in the gray suit said, "HEIMLICH HOSPITAL ALMOST FORGETS PAPERWORK!' Wait until the readers of _The Daily Punctilio_ see that!"

"Somebody call Hal," a doctor suggested, "He's in charge of the Library of Records, so he can solve this paperwork problem."

"I'll call Hal right now!" a nurse announced, walking out of the operating theater, and the crowd clapped.

"There's no need to call Hal," the hook-handed man said, raising his hooked gloves to calm the crowd. "The paperwork has been taken care of, I promise you."

"But all surgical paperwork has to be verified by Hal," Klaus said. "That's the policy of Heimlich Hospital."

The bald man gave us an icy glare and spoke in a scary whisper. "What in the world are you doing?" he asked us. "You're going to ruin everything!"

"I think Dr. Tocuna is right," another doctor said. "That's the policy here."

The crowd applauded again, and we glanced at each other as we realized our influence over the crowd.

"Hal is on his way," the nurse announced, as she reentered the room. "There's apparently been some problem at the Library of Records, but he'll come as quickly as he can and settle this matter once and for all."

"We don't need Hal to settle this matter once and for all," a voice said from the far end of the theater, and we turned to see the tottering figure of Esmé Squalor, walking straight towards us, with two people trailing dutifully behind her. They were dressed in medical coats and surgical masks just like us. I could see just a bit of their pale faces above their masks. I knew immediately that they were the powder-faced women.

"This is the real Dr. Tocuna," Esmé said, pointing at one of the women, "and this is the real Nurse Flo. And they don't have a long lost sister named Surry. The people up on this stage are impostors."

"No we're not," the hook handed man said, bitterly.

"Not you," Esmé said, impatiently. "I mean the other three people on the stage. They fooled everyone. They fooled doctors, nurses, volunteers, reporters, and even me—until I found the real associates of Dr. Flacutono, that is."

"In my medical opinion," Klaus said, "I believe this woman has lost her mind."

"I haven't lost my mind," Esmé said with a hiss, "but you're about to lose your heads, Baudelaires. And perhaps Jane will lose a limb too, if she's not careful."

"Baudelaires?" the reporter for _The Daily Punctilio_ asked. "The same Baudelaires who murdered Count Omar?"

"Olaf," the bald man corrected.

"That's not true," I cried.

"I'm confused," a volunteer whined, "There are too many people pretending to be other people."

"Allow me to explain," Esmé said, stepping onto the stage. "I am a medical professional like Dr. Flacutono, Dr. O. Lucafont, Dr. Tocuna, and Nurse Flo. You can see that from the medical coats and surgical masks."

"So are we!" I cried.

Esmé's surgical mask curled into a wicked smile. "Not for long," she said, and in one swift motion, she ripped the surgical masks off of our faces and yanked my cap off, exposing my hair.

The crowd gasped in horror.

"They _are_ the Baudelaires!" a nurse exclaimed in astonishment. "I read about them in _The Daily Punctilio_!"

"Wasn't that other girl in _The Daily Punctilio_, too?" a doctor asked, looking at me. "Isn't she supposed to be dead?"

"No, that's a different girl," Esmé said quickly.

"Maybe she's an accomplice!" a nurse cried.

"But there were supposed to be _three_ murderous orphans, not _two_! And I don't recall any of them having blonde hair," another nurse said. "Where's the oldest one?"

The hook-handed man quickly stepped in front of the gurney to shield Violet from view. "She's already in jail," he said hastily.

"She is not!" Klaus said, and brushed Violet's hair out of her eyes so everyone could see who she really was. "These terrible people disguised her as a patient, so they could cut her head off!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Esmé said. "_You're_ the one who was trying to cut her head off. Look, you're still holding the knife."

"That's true!" the reporter cried. "I can see the headline now: 'MURDERER ATTEMPTS TO MURDER MURDERER.' Wait until the readers of _The Daily Punctilio_ see this!"

"They're not murderers!" I cried, frantically. "And I'm not an accomplice!"

"If you're not murderers," the reporters said, holding out the microphone, "then why have you sneaked into a hospital in disguise?"

"I think I can explain that," said another voice. I turned to se Hal entering the operating theater. In one hand were the fake keys we made and his other hand was pointing angrily at us.

"Those three Baudelaire murderers," he said, "pretended to be volunteers in order to come to work in the Library of Records."

"They did?" a nurse said, as the crowd gasped. "You mean they're murderers and fake volunteers?"

"No wonder they didn't know the words to the song!" a volunteer cried.

"Taking advantage of my poor eyesight," Hal continued, "they made these fake keys and switched it with the real one, so they could sneak into the library and destroy files about their crimes!"

"We didn't want to destroy the file," Klaus said, "We wanted to clear our names. I'm sorry we tricked you, Hal, and I'm sorry that some of the file cabinets were knocked over, but—"

"Knocked over?" Hal repeated. "You did more than knock over cabinets." He looked at the Baudelaires, sighed heavily, and faced the audience. "These children committed arson," he said, "The Library of Records is burning as we speak."

Everyone gasped but we barely had time to absorb the news before we were interrupted by rough and familiar laughter coming from the intercom speaker above us. It was triumphant laughter that I've heard many times before coming from Mattathias, of course. But his laughter was loud enough to wear off the anesthesia and Violet murmured something and moved her arms.

"Oops," Mattathias said, interrupting his laughter. "This is Mattathias, the Head of Human Resources, with an important announcement. There is a terrible fire in Heimlich Hospital. The fire was set in the Library of Records by the Baudelaire murderers, and has spread to the Sore Throat Ward, the Stubbed Toe Ward, and the Accidentally Swallowed Something You Shouldn't Have Ward. The orphans are still at large, so do everything you can to find them. After the murdering arsonists have been captured, you might want to rescue some of the patients who are trapped in the fire. That is all."

"I can see the headline now," the reporter said. "'BAUDELAIRE MURDERERS TORCH PAPERWORK.' Wait until the readers of _The Daily Punctilio_ see this!"

"Somebody tell Mattathias we've captured the children," a nurse cried in triumph, "You three brats are in big trouble. And so is their new accomplice. You're murderers, arsonists, and spurious doctors."

"That's not true," Klaus said, but I could see he knew that these people would never believe us. Not without evidence. So far the only evidence there was, proved the Baudelaires are criminals.

"Surround them!" the hook-handed man called, pointing at us with his curved glove. "But be careful. The bookworm still has the knife!" Olaf's associates spread out in a circle and started closing in at all angles. I noticed the bald man specifically chose his path so he was heading straight for me. I swallowed and Sunny whimpered. Klaus picked her up, placing her on the gurney.

"Arrest the Baudelaires!" a doctor cried.

"And their accomplice!" another doctor cried.

"That's what we're doing, you fool!" Esmé replied impatiently, but when she turned her gaze on us, she winked.

"We're going to capture only two of you. One Baudelaire. And Jane, of course." she said, in a quiet voice so the audience wouldn't hear her. She reached down to her stiletto heels. "This in footwear isn't just useful for making me look glamorous and feminine," she said, removing the shoes and pointing them at us. "These stilettos are perfect for slitting children's throats. Two bratty little Baudelaires will be killed trying to escape from justice, leaving one bratty little Baudelaire and Jane to give us both fortunes."

"You'll never get your hands on either of our fortunes," I said, fiercely, "or your shoes on our throats."

"We'll see," Esmé said, and swung her left shoe at Klaus as if it were a sword. Klaus ducked quickly and the blade swept over him.

"She's trying to kill us!" Klaus shouted to the audience. "Can't you see? These are the real murderers!"

"No one will ever believe you," Esmé said, in a cold whisper, and swung her right shoe at Sunny, who moved out of the way just in time.

"I don't believe you!" Hal shouted. "My eyesight might not be what it used to be, but I can see your phony medical coat."

"I don't believe you, either!" a nurse cried. "I can see that rusty knife!"

Esmé swung both shoes at the same time, but they collided in midair instead of hitting us. "Why don't you just surrender?" she hissed. "We've finally trapped you, just as you trapped Olaf all those other times."

"Now you know what it feels like to be a villain," the bald man chuckled. "Move closer, everyone! Mattathias told me that whoever grabs them first gets to choose where we go to dinner tonight!"

"Is that so?" the hook-handed man asked. "Well, I'm in the mood for pizza." He swung his hook at Klaus, and I grabbed him, pulling him out of harms way. He swung again, this time at me, with a wicked grin. We ducked, falling back against the gurney, rolling it out of the hook-handed man's reach.

"I feel more like Chinese food," one of the powder-faced women said. "Let's go to that place where we celebrated the Quagmire kidnapping."

"I want to have Mexican food like when we celebrated catching Jane," the bald man said, his hands reaching out as he moved closer.

"Stay away from her!" Klaus cried, raising the knife higher at the bald man. He merely grinned wider as he moved closer.

"I want to go to Café Salmonella," Esmé growled.

As they continued to close in, we rolled the gurney in the opposite direction. Klaus was still holding the rusty knife for protection, but I knew Klaus well enough that he would never be able to use it on any of them. I probably wouldn't have had the courage either. It reminded me of when I tried to defend myself earlier with a dull scalpel and failed miserably.

I looked at Klaus and he looked back at me with wide eyes. It took me a moment to realize my fingers were sliding into my pocket, reaching for the only thing I had. I clutched the vial in hands, concealing it from everyone as I pulled the top off.

"The gurney," I mouthed to Klaus, hoping he would understand.

Klaus looked puzzled but since we were hopelessly trapped, he didn't disagree. So I took his hand with the one that wasn't occupied, and together we faced the villains.

They chuckled when they noticed us holding hands.

"Look at them holding hands," the hook-handed man jeered, "looks like Blondie's got herself a boyfriend." The others laughed. I glanced at Klaus and noticed his cheeks were a little pink. I waited for Klaus to reply saying it wasn't true, but he didn't say anything on the matter, instead he squeezed my hand tighter.

"I'll have to fix that," Esmé said, disentangling her stilettos.

"Get back!" Klaus cried, "This knife is very sharp!"

"You can't kill all of us," the hook-handed man replied. "In fact, I doubt you have the courage to kill anyone."

"It doesn't take courage to kill someone," I countered, my thoughts turning to Jacques…lifeless and ghostly pale in that filthy cell.

"It takes a severe lack of moral stamina," Klaus finished. That only made Olaf's associates laugh harder.

"Your fancy words won't save you now, you twerp," Esmé said. "And neither will your girlfr—"

"Attention! Attention!" Everyone went still as a voice came from the intercom speaker. Expecting to hear Mattathias, everyone was surprised to hear that it was someone else instead. "This is Babs, the real Head of Human Resources. And I didn't resign at all, but Mattathias is an impostor! Do not trust him or Dr. Flacutono and his associates, they're all impostors and murderers! Please capture them, but make sure you evacuate too. The fire that I can confirm was not set by the Baudelaires either! That is all, thank you!" Klaus and I glanced at each other, confused. Something told me whoever made that announcement wasn't Babs either.

The crowd gasped. "The Baudelaires were right," a doctor cried, "Dr. Flacutono and his associates aren't medical professionals, but spurious doctors, murderers, and probably arsonists!"

"But the Baudelaires are still spurious doctors and murderers too!" another doctor cried. "So they're still criminals too!"

While the crowd was gasping and preparing to take action, Dr. Flacutono and his associates were wide eyed.

Klaus and I beamed. We might not have cleared their names, but at least the crowd was no longer fooled by Mattathias and his associates.

"That won't stop us from capturing one of you first," Esmé hissed, "Don't think it'll save you from us. You're still trapped."

"Maybe it won't save us," I said, the corners of my mouth widening into a triumphant smile. "But this will!"

I raised the vial and then, poured the black powder out. Instantly, the room went dark and I could barely see a thing, but Klaus was still holding my hand, and helped me onto the gurney. He tossed the knife aside and we were pushing the gurney together through the dark room that was full of shouting and chaos.

"Get them!" the hook-handed man cried. "They're getting away!"

"They won't get away from me!" Hal promised and managed to grab the gurney just before we reached the door. It stopped and I saw Sunny give Hal an apologetic smile. "Sorry," she said, and bit him gently on his hand so he would let go but not get hurt.  
>"Ow!" Hal said, and let go. "The baby bit me!" he shouted to the crowd.<p>

"Someone grab Dr. Flacutono and his associates!" a nurse cried.

"I can't see anything!" Someone else shouted, "someone turned off the lights."

We finally rolled out the door just as Violet's eyes flickered open. Klaus and I tried as best as we could to steer the rusty gurney and go as fast as we could. But we still had to try not to run into anything or anybody in the hallways of the Surgical Ward.

"Attention!" Mattathias was back on the intercom speaker, and he sounded furious. "This is Mattathias, the Head of Human Resources! Babs I'm afraid has suffered a severe mental illness, but she's been taken care of!" I heard a strange, muffled noise in the background that had me worried. I hoped whoever made that announcement was okay and I hoped desperately that it wasn't Monty. But the false Babs sounded nothing like him. "Dr. Flacutono and his associates are real medical professionals and the fire was set by the Baudelaire murderers! Now the Baudelaire murderers and arsonists are escaping on a gurney with a hostage!" I'm guessing I was the hostage. "Capture them at once! Also, the fire is spreading throughout the hospital! You might want to evacuate!"

"Noriz!" Sunny shouted.

"We're going as fast as we can!" I cried.

"Violet, wake up, please!" Klaus cried, "You can help push!"

"I'm try . . . ing. . . ." Violet muttered, squinting around.

"Door!" Sunny shrieked, pointing to the door that led out of the Surgical Ward. Klaus and I steered in that direction, riding past the associate who looked like neither a man nor a woman, still disguised as a guard. It roared and began to chase us, as we reached a small group of Volunteers Fighting Disease.

They began to chase us now too and we steered the gurney around another corner. "Wake up," I begged Violet, who was looking very confused as she looked around.

"Please, Violet!" Klaus urged.

"Stairs!" Sunny said, pointing to a staircase.

"We'll have to roll down it," I cried. Klaus and I steered the gurney in that direction. We rolled down the stairs on the gurney, bumping up and down. It reminded me of sliding down the banisters here earlier and when we collided with Mr. Poe's car while staying with Uncle Monty. There was a curve in the stairs and Klaus scraped his shoe against the floor to stop the gurney and leaned over to check the map.

"I'm trying to see if we should go through the 'Ward for People with Nasty Rashes'," Klaus said, pointing at the door. "Or continue down the staircase."

"Dleen!" Sunny cried, meaning, "We can't continue down the staircase—look!"

Klaus and I looked where Sunny was pointing to see a fiery orange glow in the hospital basement, and there were a few wisps of black smoke billowing up the staircase. It was a terrible sight and it reminded me of when Carmelita Spatz locked me in that shed where I almost burnt to a crisp. I also recalled that foggy memory of my parent's cottage burning down and my mother shouting my name. I could tell the Baudelaires were just as frozen as I was, probably thinking about the fire that destroyed their home and made them orphans.

"Fire," Violet said, faintly.

"Yes," Klaus said, "it's spreading up this staircase."

"We've got to turn around and go back upstairs," I said.

Suddenly, we heard the enormous associate roar again.

"No up," Sunny said.

"I know," Klaus said. "We can't go up the stairs and we can't go down. We have to go into the Ward for People with Nasty Rashes."

"Hopefully we'll find a way to get out of this hospital," I said, "so we can track down the real V.F.D."

At that, the two of us turned the gurney and wheeled it through the door as Mattathias's voice came through the intercom. "This is Mattathias, the Head of Human Resources," he said hastily, "All associates of Dr. Flacutono, continue to search for the children! Everyone else, gather in front of the hospital—either we will catch the murderers as they escape, or they'll be burned to a crisp!"

As we rolled down another hallway, we realized with despair that Mattathias was right. An orange glow could be seen at the far end of the hallway, inching its way towards us.

A roar came from behind us, and I knew the heavy associate was lumbering down the stairs after us. We were trapped in the middle.

"What should we do?" I said, panic rising in my throat. Would we have to make the choice between a fiery death and being captured?

"We'd better hide," Klaus said, stopping the gurney and jumping to the floor. He helped me down and then said, "it's too dangerous to be rolling around like this."

"Where?" Sunny asked, as I helped her down.

"Someplace close by," Klaus said, taking Violet's arm. "The anesthesia is still wearing off, so Violet can't walk too far."

"I'll . . . try. . . ." Violet murmured, stepping shakily off the gurney and leaning on Klaus. I looked around for a place to go and my eyes caught a door marked "Supply Closet."

"What about that supply closet?" I suggested.

"I guess," Klaus said, sounding doubtful. I opened the door so Klaus could help Violet inside. "I don't know what we can do in a supply closet, but at least it'll hide us for a few moments."

We moved into the supply closet, locking the door behind us. I looked around the room at the row of white medical coats, the cans of alphabet soup, the small boxes of rubberbands, and the window, and then, at Violet. I was glad that she seemed to be more awake because I knew the only way we would make it out alive, was if she invented us a way out.

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><p><strong>Review! Next chapter will be the last one for THH :)<strong>


	33. The Inappropriate Shelter

**Here's the final chapter of THH!**

**So ENJOY and as always REVIEW! :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten: The Inappropriate Shelter<strong>

Violet looked at all of the supplies, trying to focus on inventing something with these small objects. The anesthesia was still wearing off though, and she squinted very hard at them.

"Violet," Klaus said, "I know that the anesthesia hasn't completely worn off, but we need you to try to invent something."

"Yes," Violet said faintly, rubbing her eyes with her hands. "I . . . know."

"We'll help you all we can," I said, "Just tell us what to do. The fire is consuming the entire hospital, and we have to get out of here quickly."

"Rallam," Sunny added, meaning, "And Olaf's associates are chasing us."

"Open . . . the window," Violet said with difficulty, pointing to the window in the corner.

I moved over to the window, opening it and glancing outside. Smoke covered everything and I could barely see. "It looks like we're on the third floor," I said, "or maybe the fourth. There's smoke in the air, so it's hard to tell. We're not so high up, but it's still too far to jump."

"Climb?" Sunny asked.

Klaus had helped Violet lean against the wall, so he could come and look. He said, "There's an intercom speaker right below us. I suppose we could hang on to that and climb down to the bushes below, but we'd be climbing in front of a huge crowd. The doctors and nurses are helping the patients escape, and there's Hal."

"Don't forget that reporter from _The Daily Punctilio _and—"

I was interrupted by a faint sound coming from outside the hospital.

"_We are Volunteers Fighting Disease,_

_And we're cheerful all day long._

_If someone said we were sad,_

_That person would be wrong."_

"And the Volunteers Fighting Disease," Klaus finished for me. "They're waiting at the entrance to the hospital, just like Mattathias told them to. Can you invent something to fly over them?"

Violet frowned and her eyes closed as the volunteers continued their song.

"_We visit people who are sick,_

_And try to make them smile,_

_Even if their noses bleed,_

_Or if they cough up bile."_

"Violet?" Klaus asked. "You're not falling asleep again, are you?"

"No," Violet said. "I'm . . . thinking. We need . . . to distract . . . the crowd . . . before we . . . climb down."

There was a distant roar from beyond the closed door. "That must be Olaf's associate," I said, "it must have reached the Ward for People with Nasty Rashes. We should hurry."

"Klaus and Jane," Violet said, her eyes opening. "Open those boxes . . . of rubber bands. Start to string . . . them together . . . to make . . . a cord."

"_Tra la la la, Fiddle dee dee,_

_Hope you get well soon._

_Ho ho ho, hee hee hee,_

_Have a heart-shaped balloon."_

"But how are we going to distract the crowd?" I asked.

"I . . . don't know," Violet admitted, and her gaze dropped to the floor. "I'm having . . . trouble focusing my . . . inventing skills."

"Help," Sunny said.

"Don't cry for help, Sunny," Klaus said, "No one will hear us."

"Help," Sunny insisted, and took off her white medical coat. Using her teeth, Sunny bit down on the fabric, tearing a small strip of cloth off. She held it up and gave it to Violet.

"Ribbon," Sunny said. Violet gave Sunny a sad smile and she tied her hair up just as she always did when she needed to invent something. Violet closed her eyes again and nodded.

"I know . . . it's a bit silly," Violet said. "I think . . . it did help, Sunny. Klaus . . . get to work . . . on the rubber bands. Sunny—can you open . . .one of those cans of soup?"

"Treen," Sunny said, which meant, "Yes—I opened one earlier, to help decode the anagrams."

"Good," Violet replied, sounding stronger and more confident. "We need . . .an empty can . . . as quickly as . . . possible."

"_We visit people who are ill,_

_And try to make them laugh,_

_Even when the doctor says_

_He must saw them in half._

_We sing and sing all night and day,_

_And then we sing some more._

_We sing to boys with broken bones_

_And girls whose throats are sore."_

As the song went on, the Baudelaires and I worked hastily, Klaus and I stringing rubber bands together while Sunny gnawed at the top of a can of soup. Violet went to the sink and splashed water on her face to try to make herself more alert.

"_Tra la la la, Fiddle dee dee,_

_Hope you get well soon._

_Ho ho ho, hee hee hee,_

_Have a heart-shaped balloon."_

Klaus and I had managed to put together a long cord of rubber bands and Sunny had taken the top off a can of soup and was pouring it down the sink. Violet stared at the bottom of the closet door, from which a very thin wisp of smoke was crawling out.

"The fire is in the hallway," Violet said, anxiously, as another roar came from Olaf's associate, "and so is Olaf's henchperson. We have only a few moments."

"The cord is all ready," I said, dutifully.

"But how can we distract the crowd with an empty can of soup?"

"It's not an empty can," Violet said, "not anymore. Now it's a spurious intercom. Sunny, poke one hole in the bottom of the can."

"Pietrisycamollaviadelrechiotemexity," Sunny said, and this time I wasn't exactly sure what she meant, but there was no time for anyone to translate. Sunny took the can of soup and poked a hole in the bottom as Violet had asked, looking perplexed.

"Now," Violet said, looking at Klaus, "you and Jane hold this near the window. Don't let the crowd see it. They have to think my voice is coming out of the intercom."

So Klaus and I did as Violet asked and held the can of soup near the window. Violet leaned in and stuck her head inside it.

"Attention!" Violet announced, "This is Babs. I am in perfectly good condition and Mattathias has resigned due to personal reasons, so I am once again the Head of Human Resources. The Baudelaire murderers and arsonists have been spotted in the unfinished wing of the hospital. We require everyone's assistance in making sure they do escape. Please rush over there right away. That is all."

Violet pulled away and looked at us. "Do you think it worked?" she asked.

Sunny was about to respond when she was interrupted.

"Did you hear that?" someone said. "The criminals are over in the unfinished half of the hospital. Come on, everyone."

"Maybe some of us should stay here at the front entrance, just in case," said a voice that sounded like Hal's.

Violet stuck her head back into the can. "Attention!" she announced. "This is Babs, the Head of Human Resources. No one should stay at the front entrance to the hospital. It's too dangerous. Proceed at once to the unfinished wing. That is all."

Some reporter started talking about what a great headline that would make and the crowd cheered as they walked away from the front of Heimlich Hospital.

"It worked," Violet said. "We fooled them. We're as good at tricking people as Olaf is."

"And at disguises," Klaus said.

"And at making quick get aways," I said, patting my pocket where I had stuck the now empty vial.

"Anagrams," Sunny said.

"And lying to people," Violet said, suddenly. "Maybe we're becoming villains after all."

"Don't say that," Klaus said. "We're not villains. We're good people. We had to do tricky things in order to save our lives."

"Olaf has to do tricky things," Violet said, "to save his life."

"Different," Sunny said.

"Maybe it's not different," Violet said wearily.

"But you didn't do any of those things that they're accusing you of," I said, "Maybe we lied and stole, but no one really got hurt. Olaf's the one who started the fire and he's the reason we're in this mess—"

A furious roar coming from just outside the closet door interrupted me. Olaf's assistant had reached the supply closet and was now fumbling at the door with its enormous hands.

"We can discuss it later," Klaus said. "We have to get out of here right now."

"We're not going to climb," Violet said, "not with such a skinny, rubbery cord. We're going to bounce."

"Bounce?" Sunny asked doubtfully.

"Plenty of people bounce from high places on long, rubbery cords just for fun," Violet said, "so I'm sure we can do it to escape. I'll tie the cord to the faucet with the Devil's Tongue knot, and we'll each take turns jumping out the window. The cord should catch us before we hit the ground, and bounce us up, and down, and up, and down, more and more gently each time. Eventually we'll get to the bottom safely, and then we'll toss it back up to the next person."

"It sounds risky," I said. "I'm not sure the cord is long enough."

"It is risky," Violet agreed, "but not as risky as a fire."

Olaf's assistant shook the door angrily, making a large crack beside the lock. Black smoke oozed inside the closet as Violet hurriedly tired the cord to the faucet and then tugged on it to make sure it was secure."

"I'll go first," she said. "I invented it, so I'd better test it."

"No," Klaus said, "We're not taking turns."

"We should go together," I said in agreement.

"If we all go together," Violet said, "I'm not sure if the cord will hold."

"We're not leaving anyone behind," Klaus said firmly. "Not this time." He glanced pointedly at me. "Either we all escape, or none of us do."

"But if none of us do," Violet said, tears filling her eyes, "then we'll all be gone. Olaf will have won."

Klaus reached into his pocket and took out a sheet of paper. He unfolded it and I could see it was page thirteen of the Snicket file. He pointed to the photograph and then read the sentence below. "'Because of the evidence discussed on page nine, experts now suspect that there may in fact be one survivor of the fire, but the survivor's whereabouts are unknown.' We've got to survive, too—so we can find out what happened and bring Olaf to justice."

"And I need to find out more about my parents," I said, "and keep writing in my notebook so perhaps it'll bring Olaf to justice too. Not just for us, but for Uncle Monty, Aunt Josephine, Jacques Snicket, and anyone else who was hurt or killed because of Olaf."

"But if we take turns," Violet said, frantically, "there's a chance that none of us will survive."

"We're not leaving anyone behind," Klaus said firmly. "That's what makes us different from Olaf."

Violet thought for a moment and nodded. "You're right," she said.

Suddenly, Olaf's associate kicked at the door and the crack widened. A flicker of orange light made it clear the fire had reached the door at the same time. I frowned, feeling sorry for it. Sure he/she was trying to catch us, but I still didn't like the thought of anyone dying in the fire. Maybe if things were different, I would've opened the door to let him/her in so he/she could escape from the flames too. But then again, why should I even care for it? He/she was partially responsible for our misery and probably wouldn't care less if we died in the fire.

"I'm scared," Violet said.

"I'm frightened," Klaus said.

"I'm petrified," I said.

"Sheer terror," Sunny said. There was another kick and a few sparks were forced through the crack in the door. We looked at each other and we each grabbed the rubber band cord with one hand. With our other hands, we held onto each other and together, leapt out of the window. I closed my eyes as we fell, afraid we would plummet to our deaths, but just as I thought we were going to hit the ground, we sprang up, bouncing up and down. I opened my eyes and was relieved to see Violet's invention had worked perfectly. Our feet brushed against one of the bushes in front of the hospital, and after a few bounces we were able to drop to the ground and hug each other in relief.

"We made it," Violet said. "It was a close call, but we survived."

We looked behind us and saw that it was indeed a close call. Fire burst from the hospital windows. Plumes of smoke poured from gapping holes in the walls. Glass shattered and we heard the crackle of wood as the floors fell through. This must have been how the Baudelaire's home had looked when it burned down. We all stepped back from the building and huddled together as the air filled with smoke.

"Where can we go?" I asked, shouting over the roaring fire. "Any minute now the crowd will figure out that we're not in the unfinished half of the hospital, and return here."

"Run!" Sunny shrieked.

"But we can't even see where we're going!" Violet cried. "The whole area is filling up with smoke!"

"Stay down!" Klaus said dropping to the ground and beginning to crawl. "In _The_ _Encyclopedia of Escaping Arson,_ the author wrote that there's more oxygen closer to the ground, so we can breathe more easily." We all immediately got down on our hands and knees. "But we need to get to some kind of shelter right away."

"Where will we find some kind of shelter, in this empty landscape?" Violet asked, as we crawled beside Klaus. "The hospital is the only building for miles, and it's burning to the ground!"

"I don't know," Klaus said, coughing loudly, "but we can't breathe in this smoke for long!"

"Hurry up!" a voice called out of the smoke. "This way!" A long, black automobile emerged from the smoky air, and pulled up in front of the hospital. It could have served as a form of shelter, except that it was probably the most dangerous option.

"Hurry up!" Olaf's voice said again. "Hurry up or I'll leave you behind!"

"I'm coming, darling." Esmé Squalor replied. "Lucafont and Flacutono are with me, and the ladies are following behind. I had them take all the medical coats we could find, in case we need them for costumes again."

"Good thinking," Olaf replied. "Can you see the car in the smoke?"

"Yes," Esmé said, her voice sounding closer. "Open the trunk, darling, and we'll put the costumes in."

"Oh, all right," Olaf sighed, and we saw his tall figure as he stepped out of the car.

"Wait up, Olaf!" the bald man cried.

"You fool," Olaf replied. "I told you to call me Mattathias until we leave the hospital grounds. Hurry up and get in the car. The Snicket file wasn't in the Library of Records, but I think I know where I can find it. I've already taken care of the Murray file and once we destroy those thirteen pages of the Snicket file, there'll be no stopping us."

"We've got to destroy those Baudelaires, too," Esmé said.

"We would have destroyed them and Jamie, if all of you hadn't messed up my plan," he said, "but never mind that. We have to get out of here before the authorities come."

"But your largest assistant is still in the Rash Ward, looking for the brats!" the bald man said, and I heard him opening the door of the car.

"The Ward for People with Nasty Rashes is entirely destroyed," he said. "I hope the big one got out okay."

"We're not going to wait around to find out if that fool lived or died," Olaf growled. "As soon as the ladies can put the costumes in the trunk, we'll get out of here. It's been splendid setting this fire, but we've got to find the Snicket file as soon as possible, before You-Know-Who does."

"V.F.D.!" Esmé said with a cackle. "The real V.F.D., that is, not those ridiculous singers!"

The trunk was lifted into the smoky air. It had the signature bullet holes in the back that I remembered from all the other times I rode in it. Olaf strode back to the car and continued giving orders.

"Get out of the front seat, you idiots," Olaf said. "My girlfriend sits in front, and the rest of you can pile in the back."

"Yes, boss," the bald man replied.

"We have the costumes, Mattathias." The voice of one of the powder-faced women said faintly. "Just give us a few seconds to reach the car."

Violet leaned close to us. "We've got to go in there," she said.

"Where?" Klaus whispered in reply.

"In the trunk," Violet replied. "It's our only chance to get out of here without getting captured—or worse."

"Culech!" Sunny said in a terrified whisper, which meant, "Getting in the trunk is the same thing as getting captured!"

"We've got to get the rest of the Snicket file before Olaf does," Violet said, "or we'll never be able to clear our names."

"Or bring Olaf to justice," Klaus said.

"Ezan," Sunny said, meaning "Or find out if one of our parents really survived the fire."

"Or find the truth about my parents," I said.

"The only way we can do all those things," Violet said, "is to get in the trunk of that car."

"But how will we do that without being seen?" Klaus asked.

"I'll distract them," I said, "if you're getting in that trunk, I've got to be in Olaf's clutches again to make sure you're okay. I'll be your eyes and ears."

"No, Jane," Klaus said, "I told you we weren't going to leave you behind this time."

"You're not leaving me behind," I said, softly, "we'll be in the same car. Besides, I can make absolutely sure, that Olaf doesn't suspect you're in there. And I'll be able to spy on them so I can find out about your parents, my parents, and where the Snicket file is."

"I don't like the idea," Violet said, "but I think you're right, Jane. And we'll be right with you, in case you need us."

"Delupa," Sunny said, meaning, "I don't like it either. So be careful."

"But what if something happens to you?" Klaus said, "What if Olaf hides you away like he did with the Quagmires and we never see you again?"

"I'll be fine since everyone thinks I'm dead," I said, trying to reassure him. I reached to give each of them the best hug I could manage while trying to stay low. "Now Olaf won't hide me anywhere."

"Let me come with you then," Klaus said as I hugged him, "that way I'll know you're safe."

"No," I said, firmly, "it's too dangerous. Only I should go, you stay with your siblings. I don't like the thought of being the cause for you to separate from each other."

"What about you?" Klaus said, "I don't like it when you're separated from us."

"I know," I said, "I don't like it either, but you're the only family I have, besides Esmé. And so I have to help you however I can because…because…" I couldn't find the words to finish what I was saying so instead, I said, "Don't worry about me. We'll be together this time and as long as we're together, we'll all be okay. So goodbye, for now." I gave them a small smile and winked. "Remember to keep holding on." At that, I got to my feet, and though I was terrified of what I would face, I knew it was for the best. I already had a plan cooked up for how to help the Baudelaires get inside the trunk safely.

After a few steps, I could see the car more clearly as well as the tall figure who stood beside it. I made a small coughing noise and Olaf glanced in my direction, and his impatient glare, turned into a wicked smile.

"Well, well, well," he said, drawing the other associates attention to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Baudelaires running for the trunk while the two powder-faced women were busy gawking at me. "Look who decided to show up. Where are the Baudebrats, are they with you?" His eyes gleamed as he searched the space behind me.

I put on the saddest expression I could muster, which was easy seeing as my circumstances were already upsetting. "No," I whispered, fake tears filling my eyes, which wasn't difficult to do with all of this smoke, "we got separated by the fire and I don't know what happened to them."

Olaf's eyes grew very shiny. "So they burned alive in that fire?"

I shrugged. "I don't know for sure," I said, "but I didn't have anywhere else to go and Esmé's the only family I've got."

"Well, then I guess your only option now is to come with me," Count Olaf said and then grabbed my arm so he could make sure I couldn't escape. "Did you hear that, darling?"

"I did," Esmé said, looking triumphant, "maybe they perished like their parents. Though I was hoping we'd get their fortune."

"But we've still got the Murray fortune," Olaf said, then looked down at me threateningly, "and this time there'll be no one to help you escape. Now get in the car and I'll deal with you later."

With one hand, he opened the door of the backseat, and with the other, he shoved me inside. I was now sitting beside the hook-handed man and the bald man was next to him. They gave me creepy smiles and I shrunk back in my seat, terrified. The powder-faced women closed the trunk then, and got in the backseat on my other side. I thought I would've been able to stay on the seats this time, now that the large associate was gone, but I was pushed back into my designated spot at their feet.

Olaf got in the car, shutting his door behind him, and started the car. And we were now speeding away from the hospital to somewhere unknown with my real family right behind me. It wasn't the best shelter, but it would have to do until something better came along.

* * *

><p><strong>That's the end of THH so watch for the next story coming soon!<strong>

****The next story will be like this one so from TCC to TGG so watch out for it. The first chapter should be up soon! :) **REVIEW!**


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